Gas Pains My Ass
by TexasTurtleFan
Summary: What if the Warblers didn't give up on 'Animal' so quickly? Blaine is determined to help Kurt but maybe the soloist is biting off more than he can chew. Is he prepared for what he finds in search of other Sexy Show Choir Performance videos? Probably not.
1. Chapter 1

_Ok, a quick special thanks to everyone who reviewed "Are You Real?". Seriously, those reviews are what make me want to crank out more stories. So, sincerely, thank you._

_Now, we move on to..._

_MY FIRST MULTI-CHAPTER FIC! Hooray! *celebrates in a shameless manner*_

_Actually, little nervous. Like I said, first time. And unlike a certain countertenor, I don't have a blazer-wearing someone to tell me I'm adorable. Oh well. Let me know what you all think of this._

_For the purposes of this story, canon is acknowledged all the way till "Sexy" and Kurt and Blaine board at Dalton_.

_DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)  
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><p>Finally in the safety of the Dalton parking lot, Blaine Anderson slumped against his seat, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, reliving the past few hours. Never before had he done so much and gotten so little accomplished. Honestly, the only solid result of his efforts today was a simple conclusion.<p>

Burt Hummel was the _scariest man alive._

If there had ever been a true test of his frequently preached "courage", convincing the gruff mechanic to have the gay sex talk with his son was most certainly it.

God have mercy on Kurt's first boyfriend.

Blaine shuddered, thinking of the nightmare picture he had created in the hopes of scaring Mr. Hummel into giving Kurt the Talk. The simple idea of some jerk taking advantage of Kurt, of tricking the young boy into trusting a stranger, of Kurt being at his most vulnerable with someone that wouldn't take care of him made Blaine sick to his stomach.

Though, Blaine had to admit, it was an unlikely situation. Kurt was smart and had pretty good instincts about people. It took a lot for the pale boy to confide in someone as a friend, let alone put his faith in a lover. The walls built around Kurt Hummel were sturdy and tall.

And if that should ever fail him, he had protectors.

Any sleaze ball would run screaming for the hills at the mere sight of Burt Hummel.

Finn may be an overgrown puppy but he would turn guard dog for Kurt any day.

Despite the transfer, the New Directions remained very involved in their lost member's life, part of that participation including many a threatening phone call to the Warblers to warn them about looking after Kurt (who was to know nothing of said calls under threat of unbearable pain) and the eclectic group of teens certainly seemed capable of doing severe damage to anyone they deemed a threat (they're previous record of _not_ doing this may have been what inspired the sudden protective edge but what was a better source of motivation than redemption?).

Even the Warblers, who were getting to know Kurt better and really starting to like their endearing spy (There's no way Kurt would live that down. Ever.), would never stand by and let something happen to one of their own.

And Blaine would do _anything_ for Kurt.

That is, if Kurt ever wanted to talk to him again. The awkward edge (the one that hadn't existed until Valentine's Day) in their friendship had felt more like a dividing chasm today after his attempts at Sexy Lessons.

More than ready to start mending bridges, Blaine whipped out his phone and composed a cautious text, testing the waters.

_On a scale of one to ten, how angry with me are you? - B_

So fixated on how far away Kurt had felt recently, the curly haired boy leapt out of his seat (He really should leave his car at some point) when his phone buzzed with an immediate response.

_I'm not. I'm sorry I told you to leave. You were only trying to help. - K_

Blaine had his fingers poised over his phone keys, ready to type out his own apology for delving into an uncomfortable subject and expecting Kurt to be fine with it but then his phone buzzed again with a new message.

_On a scale of one to kill me now, guess how awkward the conversation I just had with my dad was. - K _

Blaine was torn between grimacing and doing a victory dance.

_Bad, huh? – B_

_I have no words. That alone should shock you. I've been struck speechless. – K_

_First sign of the Apocalypse: Kurt Hummel stripped of his rapier wit. ;) – B_

Biting his lip due to shame for prying, Blaine just couldn't stop himself from typing out the next message immediately after sending the first.

_What exactly did your dad say? – B_

There was a longer pause in the communication here, which made Blaine uneasy.

He and Kurt told each other everything. Why was Kurt hesitating now? Was Kurt debating telling him? Did the talk not go well? Were there things Kurt didn't want to share with Blaine? Had he made Kurt that uncomfortable when he'd tried to give his friend the talk himself?

That really had been stupid. He knew how proud Kurt could be and admitting to know nothing about sex to a peer had to have been difficult.

Maybe his attempts to talk it out had come across as patronizing? Come to think of it, appointing himself to coach Kurt in the first place could be seen as a little arrogant. But, that wasn't how he meant it. He just wanted to help Kurt with his stage presence. The sex talk had just sort of happened.

Things between him and Kurt had been tense lately and he had hoped that working on a Warbler number together would get things back to normal. But now, Kurt was more distant than ever.

How had this all gone so wrong? What if Kurt didn't want to confide in him anymore? What if he got embarrassed around Blaine and started closing himself off from everyone at Dalton? What if something was really wrong and Kurt was refusing to tell Blaine about it because of this damned awkwardness? They didn't used to be like this. When exactly did he and his best friend start becoming strangers?

Thankfully a response came, yanking Blaine from his thoughts.

_It was more the subject than anything he really said. There was an underlying message about having some self-worth, which was nice to hear. I suppose I should count myself lucky that my dad cares so much. – K_

Blaine read the message over a few times, pleased with the overall tone (although the idea of Kurt needing someone else assure him of his worth worried Blaine) if a little frustrated with the vagueness. But, his meddling had made absolutely no progress when it came to his status with Kurt. He should just be thankful that he hadn't caused any (more) lasting damage (hopefully?).

_Your dad loves you very much Kurt. The fact that he sat down to talk to you about something, even though it was awkward, just shows how much. – B_

This time, the response was instant.

_And I really am grateful for that. As much as I love Carole and Finn, my dad is my world. He tries so hard for me and I don't even want to think about what kind of mess I would be without him. – K_

Blaine's stomach tightened in sorrow and jealousy. His own dad wasn't really a bad guy but he had never been there for Blaine the way Mr. Hummel had been there for his son. It was part of why he relied so heavily on being able to relate to Kurt, being able to talk about everything. If Blaine couldn't talk to Kurt, he didn't have anyone else.

Trying not to dwell on this, Blaine finally opened the door and got out of his car, heading for the Windsor building where he stayed.

_You're dad will always be there for you. We all will Kurt. ;) Are you coming back to the dorms tonight? – B_

_Thanks Blaine. :) Actually, I'm staying until Monday. I was planning on coming home next week but since I'm already here, I might as well make this my family weekend. I can only make so many trips to Lima so I should make the most of this one. I'll see you Monday. - K_

Blaine felt a small pang of guilt at this. Tuition at Dalton was incredibly steep and gas was expensive. The Hummel's had managed to cut back on the mileage by having Kurt board but that meant separating Kurt from his friends and family. Blaine knew that those miles were hard on his friend.

He hadn't meant to mess up Kurt's plans when it came to family weekends. What if something special was happening next week and now Kurt wouldn't be able to make the trip? Kurt's visits were always scheduled so that he could spend time with everyone. What if they were all busy now and Kurt was going to spend a weekend alone?

Blaine had just wanted to have the Sexy Lessons at Kurt's house because he had thought that a familiar environment would be more comfortable (and look how well that turned out) but now he was replaying the conversation, wondering if he had somehow overlooked any hesitation in Kurt and had accidentally bullied (Blaine cringed. Poor choice of words) the boy into going home.

This was so not how he thought his day would go.

Blaine's thumbs hesitated over his keyboard, wishing Kurt was here so they could talk (really _talk_ because he could feel the friendship he so treasured slipping through his fingers), wishing that he could stop making mistakes that he only recognized with 20/20 hindsight.

_Alright. Have fun with your family. Text me if you get bored. I can make as many trips to Lima as you want. Have a good weekend Kurt. :) – B_

Hoping that had helped (at the very least, hadn't done more harm than good), Blaine entered Windsor Hall and made his way up the stairs to his dorm room, ready to crash in his comfy desk chair, plug in his ear buds, and let music take him to a place where life wasn't so complicated (where he couldn't mess up as royally as he seemed to be doing lately).

Opening the door to his room, Blaine found his roommate and good friend, Wes, studying on his bed. This wasn't a surprising sight. Wes was a rather strict and straight laced (as long as he was kept away from David) person who took everything with an air of seriousness unnatural for a teenaged boy.

Hearing the door, Wes glanced up from his textbooks.

"Blaine just walked in." He said, looking back down to his notes.

No. Wes did not narrate his own life.

No. Wes did not have blind imaginary friends.

No. Wes was not an insane person who talked to himself.

On the council member's knee sat his cell phone, out of which came the voice of Blaine's other good friend and Wes's partner in the greatest bromance to ever grace the halls of Dalton academy (according to the two "bros"), David.

"Hey Blainers!"

"Hi David. Hey Wes." Blaine greeted each boy, moving further into his room, depositing his backpack and removing his blazer.

"Hey Wes! Ask Blaine how his and Kurt's make-out session went!"

Blaine sank into the chair beside his desk, not sure how to comment on his friend's question (or the fact that David had blatantly ignored that Blaine could hear the question himself and had chosen to talk through Wes).

Wes merely rolled his eyes. "I will do no such thing."

"Why not?" David did a remarkable impression of a petulant child.

"Because I refuse to waste anymore of my time on an oblivious hobbit who is stubbornly adamant on remaining oblivious."

David gasped as if morally offended. "Wes? Are you telling me you don't ship Klaine anymore?"

Blaine opened his mouth to ask when exactly the two had begun shipping his personal life but quickly shut it again. If he didn't draw attention to himself, maybe he wouldn't get dragged into the insane world of Wevid (David wasn't the only one who could create couple names). It seemed as if maybe this plan would work since, despite his clear presence, Wes and David continued their discussion as if he wasn't there to listen.

"Oh no. I know they belong together. They're hopelessly in love with each other. Soul mates, a perfect match, et cetera. I just think they missed their chance."

David cried out in indignation. "Inconceivable! I demand evidence!"

For reasons he couldn't fathom, Blaine found himself leaning forward in his chair, eagerly awaiting the analysis of his and Kurt's relationship.

Wes merely shrugged, looking slightly bored as he explained his reasoning while writing in his notes.

"Blaine shouldn't have tried to be Kurt's gay Yoda when he so clearly wanted to get into those tight skinny jeans. He should have asked Kurt out right when he transferred. And Kurt should have asked Blaine out at Christmas. He figured out his feelings for our lead soloist right after they sang 'Baby It's Cold Outside'."

"You guys know about that?" Blaine blurted out his question in surprise.

"Everybody knows about that." Wevid answered, as if this was obviously common knowledge.

"How?"

"Irrelevant." David snapped. "Now, shhhhh! Continue Wes."

"Anyway, Kurt should have said something before Valentine's Day. He would have saved everyone a lot of humiliation. I still can't believe we agreed to that."

"Hey! We thought he was singing to Kurt!"

"Exactly. He _should_ have sung to Kurt but he didn't. Kurt took a step in the right direction with their talk in the coffee shop but Blaine had to be stupid and play the friends card."

David scoffed in agreement. "Not to mention, he was way too ambiguous about the whole thing. What is 'I really care about you' supposed to mean anyway?"

"How do you two know these things?" Blaine practically screamed.

David just shushed him again.

Wes sighed heavily, finding this subject more trouble than it was worth, what with all the interruptions.

"Anyway, after that debacle came the dark times of Straight-Blaine."

David shuddered audibly. "That was horrifying."

Blaine's face flushed darkly. He'd been trying very hard not to think about _that_ mess.

"I think that was the final nail in the coffin of Klaine. I don't know much about the gay dating world but I'm pretty sure kissing a girl is not the way to win boys over. And that was a pretty ugly fight."

"Yeah. How exactly did they make up after that one?"

Blaine glanced at his shoes, remembering coming out of the bathroom to find that Rachel had run off. He then found Kurt at their table with two coffees. They sat in a very cold silence before exchanging blanket apologies for their behavior and agreeing to let bygones be bygones.

Looking back, it seemed like a pretty poor resolution to their biggest conflict.

"What I'm saying is they were both too timid for too long. Kurt's been friend zoned and it seems like he's given up on fighting it because Blaine refuses to see what's right in front of him. I guess eventually, Kurt will move on. He can only get snubbed so many times before he learns to take a hint. If Blaine is lucky, he'll remain ignorant. It's better than the pain of missing what he'll never have."

Blaine swallowed thickly, his chest aching at the thought of Wes's dim prediction of his future.

"Damn Wes. That is seriously depressing."

"I'm just being realistic."

David huffed in that stubborn way of his. "Well, I, for one, believe in the powers of true love! Blaine will get his head out of his ass someday. And I've seen the way Kurt looks at our little hobbit. You don't just 'move on' from that."

Blaine much preferred David's version (not the true love bit. That was just his friends being their usual ridiculous selves). He didn't like Wes's foretelling of Blaine hurting Kurt like that, no mater how unintentional.

"KLAINE IS ENDGAME!" With that, David hung up.

Blaine stared at the silent phone for a while. Wes rolled his eyes before setting the device on the bedside table.

"Did Kurt come back with you?"

Thankful for normal conversation, Blaine turned to power up his laptop on the desk as he answered.

"He's staying in Lima for the weekend. He'll be back by Monday."

Wes hummed, thinking something over. "Ok. Then we'll have to wait till Tuesday to run 'Animal' again."

Blaine jerked up. "What?"

"Well, we need all the Warblers to discuss the number and ways to improve. So after Kurt's back, we'll set up a schedule on Monday. We need to run it a few more times before competition."

Blaine gulped nervously. "The council is still considering it for Regionals?"

Wes finally tore his eyes from his work, giving his friend a questioning look. "It was a good number Blaine. Maybe it's a little rough but I saw you get at least three numbers. The girls loved it. We just need to polish our performance."

Blaine's eyes found great interest in the floor.

Talk or no Talk, there's no way Kurt would be comfortable with sex by Regionals.

"Blaine, what's going on? Selling sexy was your idea. What's the matter?"

"I just… don't think the performance was our best." Blaine worded carefully.

"Does this have anything to do with why you and Kurt ran off so quickly after we sang?"

Blaine worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Maybe, if he was very vague, he could tell Wes. It was what was best for Kurt. The ends justify the means, right? He was only looking out for his friend after all. Wasn't that his job as best friend and mentor?

"Kurt wasn't exactly… comfortable… on stage today."

There was silence as Wes took this in.

"Well duh!"

That was not the reaction Blaine was expecting. His mouth hung open for a moment, trying to decide how to respond.

Wes stared at Blaine, eyebrows raised, as if Blaine was the weird one.

"It was his first time getting any sort of solo with us. It's going to take some time for him to get his sea legs, so to speak."

"But…" This was more than first-time jitters but it wasn't really Blaine's story to tell. He was already pushing his luck as it was.

"Need I remind you of _your_ first solo?"

Blaine's cheeks burned with the heat of his blush. "You still haven't let that go, have you?"

Wes slammed one of his books closed incredulously. "I still have nightmares about that! I can't believe you broke Jeff's arm!"

"It was a hairline fracture! And it was an accident! Besides, that wasn't nearly as bad as Nick's first time."

"No, it was much worse. Nick broke a _statue_ of a warbler. You broke an _actual_ Warbler. Kurt didn't break anything so I don't think you're one to judge."

Blaine let his head rest in his hands with a defeated moan. Wes had an excellent point.

Who was he to try to teach Kurt how to perform? As Wes had pointed out (in that wonderfully sensitive way of his) Blaine was far from a perfect entertainer. Compared to causing bodily harm, what did an odd facial expression matter? And if Blaine was able to overcome being a hazard to the other Warblers, Kurt could certainly improve on his minor presentation issues. Really, all it had taken to help Blaine was to watch some old videos of previous Dalton performances to understand how the group moved together.

Blaine snapped up, sitting ramrod straight in his char. Wes eyed him suspiciously, as if looking for the tell tale light bulb above his head. But he couldn't be bothered with that right now.

He's got it. And it's _brilliant_. How had he not thought of this before?

Instantly, his fingers were flying over his keyboard, typing like mad, trying to work the right phrasing into the YouTube search bar.

Videos. Previous performances of show choirs. It was so amazingly genius in its simplicity.

He just needed to find the right one.

Blaine scrolled through the search findings and out of no where, he stumbled upon…

**McKinley's New Directions Channel**

No. Way.

This was PERFECT.

The New Directions had such a diverse range in every aspect of their talents. Surely someone there had pulled off a sexy number. And showing Kurt a number he was familiar with coupled with seeing someone he knew, someone whose head he could get inside of, someone he was more comfortable with (that thought put a bit of a damper on Blaine's happiness but he would overlook it for now) would surely help Kurt get in touch with his inner Sexiness.

Maybe it wasn't too late for Blaine to turn this around.

Now, which video?

**Push It – Salt 'N' Pepa  
><strong>**Starring Artie Abrams, Rachel Berry, Tina Cohen-Chang, Finn Hudson, Kurt Hummel, and Mercedes Jones  
><strong>**Also known as, Glee Sex Riot #1**

Well, this looked promising.

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><p><em>Hee hee. Oh Blaine. If only you knew what I'm about to do to you.<br>Leave a review if you want to know. ;)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Woot! Chapter 2!_

_Thank you everyone who favorited this story/me and double thanks for all the reviews. They just fill me with such squee-y goodness. Usually I'd just leave it at that, but there were a few I wanted to make a comment on. I'll be quick, I promise.  
>IMALEMONADEADDICTT - Thank you! I'm quite fond of your name as well. ;)<br>MYUNIVERSALWORLD - I've heard of CP COULTER's work but sad to say, I've never read that particular fic. I was thinking more along the lines of the Windsor knot cause Dalton would be dapper enough to name a building after proper tie-tying.  
>TIMMY THE DOG - *blushes* Thanks. ;)<em>

_Any who, I guess I should just let you get on with Blaine's suffering. It is why you're all here, right?_

_DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)_

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><p>Blaine was genuinely surprised that this channel was not run by Rachel Berry. Given her controlling nature, he had never pegged her as the kind to delegate. But, as described on the channel's home page, the forceful girl had convinced (threatenedintimidated/badgered) the AV club to film each and every song the club did and post said videos on the Internet, in the hopes of promoting their glee club and the possibility of being discovered.

This seemed unwise given the club's history with spying but there was no arguing with Rachel Berry. The glee club knew it, Blaine knew it, so naturally the AV kids knew it and complied with her wishes.

Getting back to the task at hand, Blaine eagerly clicked the link to the video. While he waited for it to load (Dalton had internet but it was slow at times), he read the description of the video that was off to the side.

**This was the first time New Directions performed in front of the school. It was a mandatory assembly to try and recruit members for the Glee Club. They only had six members and needed twelve for Sectionals. Apparently, Mr. Schuester (glee coach) had a different song in mind but there was a switch last minute. We were all kind of shocked that… (**read more**)**

As curious as Blaine was as to what had so shocked the film crew, the video was now loaded and ready to be played. He quickly moved the mouse over to the play button. He was sure he could just ask Kurt for the details later. After all, what could really be so surprising about an assembly performance?

Blaine plugged in his head phones, earning a strange look from Wes (as the Asian boy would later tell his curly-haired friend, it wasn't about the ear buds. It was about the fact that Blaine was apparently so excited about what he was about to see, he was practically _vibrating_ in his chair.), and pressed play.

He watched as a teacher (Mr. Schuester, he assumed) introduced the glee club. The curtain drew back and Blaine instantly recognized each member of the choir from pictures in Kurt's room and his own (brief and/or intoxicated) interactions with them.

He couldn't help the small grin as he noticed how young Kurt looked. Several inches shorter and with a more rounded face, the pale boy looked barely old enough to be in High School at all. It was an odd contrast to the tall, lean Kurt Hummel whose impeccable fashion gave him sharp lines and hard angles. This Kurt was much softer. He looked so sweet.

"**Get up on this!"**

What?

"**Get up on this!**

**Oh baby, baby**

**Buh-baby, baby"**

Well… it looked like Blaine had found his sexy number.

But, with the trouble Kurt had had with 'Animal' today, how had he handled this song a year ago?

The girls were already downstage and now the boys were moving to join them. Blaine leaned forward slightly, eagerly awaiting his answer.

"**Oh baby, baby"  
><strong>_**Kurt, placed behind Finn and Artie, strutted forward with them.  
><strong>_"**Buh-baby, baby"**

Now, Kurt was center shot. Blaine bit his lip wondering what to expect.

_**His hands splayed out over his chest. They then slid slowly down his body. Down, down towards thrusting hips, his pelvis accentuated by a fanny pack.**_

Blaine's brain immediately cut out. And despite trying the ignition again and again, it just sputtered and refused to start back up.

That…

"**Now wait a minute, ya'll. Now this dance ain't for everybody. Only the sexy people."**

Wait…

"**So, all you fly mothers, get on out there and dance."**

What was…

_**Kurt, crouched behind Finn, peered around the tall teen before ducking back behind him only to reappear on the other side, never rising above Finn's waist.**_

"**Dance, I said! Holla!"**

It couldn't…

"**S-S-S-Salt and Pepa's here  
><strong>**And we're in effect  
><strong>**Want you to push it babe"**

It wasn't…

_**Kurt, standing with his feet a good deal more than a shoulder's width apart, pounding his hands mercilessly onto his hip bones, once again drawing attention to that fanny pack which drew attention to other things.**_

Just…

_**In line with the boys, one handicapped, one uncoordinated, it was only made more and more obvious that he knew his body, knew he was in absolute control.**_

There's no way he…

_**Knew exactly what he was doing.**_

He was…

_**Pressed hard against Mercedes, Kurt swung his hips back and forth, her arm round his waist keeping their movements in sync.**_

But…

_**They were in some twisted parody of a conga line, Mercedes with her hands on Kurt's waist while Kurt had a hold of Rachel's.  
><strong>_"**Push it good!"  
><strong>_**Those succulent hips came back into play.**_

… huh?

Blaine was afraid to look at the time left on this video. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"**Yo baby-pop!"**

Oh thank god, Finn was singing.

The tall jock was now dancing alone with the girls so there was nothing on screen to (for lack of a better word) distract Blaine.

There was not much relief found by the Warbler as his mind was still reeling, images of Kurt (his _best friend_, Blaine kept repeating to himself) forever burned in his brain.

And Blaine couldn't stop mentally recreating said images, despite having the onscreen awkwardness that was Finn Hudson to stare at.

_**As the football player approached, Kurt fluidly traveled from high-five to ass slap.**_

Now he didn't even have that.

And where the hell did Finn get off looking so unhappy? _Kurt Hummel_ just slapped his ass. Blaine certainly wouldn't complain.

Wait, that didn't come out right. He just meant… Wait, who was he justifying himself to anyway? (But seriously, what _did_ he mean?)

Blaine shook himself out of whatever introspective haze he'd stumbled into, focusing on the video.

It gained his rapt attention once he realized Kurt was center shot again. The camera zoomed in on that damned fanny pack and…

God, what is he doing?

_**With a neutral, almost arrogant, expression, Kurt went past the mere hip shake the others were attempting.**_

Seriously. What. Is. He. Doing? There's no way that's humanly possible.

_**Kurt's hips were pulsating at the speed of a humming bird's heartbeat.**_

Why did the camera cut away so soon? (Stop it, Blaine)

_**The boys quickly spread into a line going up the stage, the girls mirroring them on the other side. Kurt slid slowly to a kneeling position.**_

Funny. Until now, Blaine had not noticed the knee pads. Only certain members of the club were wearing them. Somewhere in Blaine's mind (the tiny part not yet made foggy by what he was seeing and was still capable of logical thought) was curious about this choice in costuming.

What on earth could those be for?

_**Rachel, Tina, and Kurt were all on the floor now. They proceeded to make their way across the stage to the person opposite them.**_

Oh. My…

_**They were crawling.**_

Never before had knee pads seemed so… (Blaine really struggled for another word, any word, other than _dirty_. He finally settled on…) risqué.

Kurt was back on his feet soon and Blaine was relieved. At least, he was determined to make himself believe he was relieved that Kurt (Friend, remember. _Best_!_ Friend_!) wasn't on all fours anymore.

_**Paired with Mercedes again, they took turns bending forward to mime a certain act.  
><strong>_"**HEY!  
><strong>**HOLLA!"  
><strong>_**Very little was left to the imagination.**_

This was bad enough. Blaine (heck, the universe) knew what they were pretending to do.

Did the camera really have to pan around to show Kurt shaking his rear?

Not that it was a bad view. Those jeans… No. Stop. He was not staring at Kurt's ass.

Not that it wasn't stare worthy.

Not that he was commenting on how attractive Kurt's ass was.

Not that he couldn't get his eyes to go elsewhere.

Not that…

Oh, shut up.

"**Ah!  
><strong>**Push it!"**

It was quite a while before Blaine realized the video was over.

On something akin to autopilot, his mouse found itself back on the description of the video, clicking the "read more" icon (something he should have probably done before watching. There was that 20/20 hindsight again.)

**We were all kind of shocked that they could get away with this. The club basically had fully clothed sex on stage. The audience liked it though. One student screamed "YES!" and suddenly there was an uproar. Unfortunately, we had to cut the video before that point because the student who screamed has apparently pestered the glee club (mostly Rachel Berry) to the point that they were offended with the idea of him being included in any of their videos. So the actual Sex Riot was edited out.**

Blaine blinked a couple times, still not yet having his bearings about him. But, his auto-pilot was apparently bored with staring off into space and instead, dragged his eyes to the comments below. The top rated comment made his jaw drop (how his jaw wasn't already on the floor, he will never know).

**I had 3 Kurtgasims. At 0:15, 1:35, 1:43 – Climbingthecheeriopyramid**

Of course, Blaine immediately clicked the three times listed.

Because, you know, Blaine's a masochist.

Something about seeing those movements a second time seemed to finally get it through Blaine's head that this was Kurt, the same boy he had just been convinced had no idea how to be remotely sexy on stage. As Kurt danced, Blaine stared hard at the pale boy's face, looking for that uneasy expression he'd seen earlier (admittedly, he was looking for any indication that this Kurt and his Kurt were the same person.) but he found nothing short of abounding confidence.

Where was that face this afternoon? All the Warblers had wanted was a little flirtation and Kurt had flailed about, obviously uncomfortable, but here was practically a pantomime _orgy_ and he was unflappable.

And how on earth was he uncomfortable with sex? If Blaine didn't know otherwise, he would say that Kurt had impregnated everyone in that audience. And those were his tormentors, people who made his life a living hell and yet, there he was, flaunting everything he had for the world to see.

Why couldn't he do the same with the Warblers, who accepted and supported him exactly as he was? After all, obviously the audience had liked the performance according to the AV club. If he wasn't uncomfortable then, why was he now?

Unless, maybe the football players had gotten over the girls' provocative dance and then remembered cheering for someone they were meant to hate.

Kurt had slapped Finn's ass. Kurt, who was so obviously different…

What if those neanderthals had cornered Kurt after the show and let him know how they felt about his (what they surely considered a) showy display?

What if Kurt's aversion to sexy songs was some form of PTSD after all the cruelty he'd had to endure?

Blaine was immediately scrolling through the channel's videos, looking for some that had taken place more recently. If Kurt had been bullied out of doing anything to exhibit his sexuality, surely the evidence would be here.

It was still from the previous year but one video caught Blaine's eye.

**4 Minutes – Madonna  
><strong>**Starring Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones  
><strong>**NOTE: This video, the choreography, the remix, and the souls of the performer's are the legal property of one Sue Sylvester.**

Ok…

Blaine had a sinking feeling that this would only raise more questions than give answers. But, he was a man on a mission.

He was going to help Kurt if it killed him. (If this video was anything like 'Push It', it seemed a likely result. But Blaine wasn't going to think about that right now.)

* * *

><p><em>Don't worry Blaine. What you're about to see won't <span>kill<span> you necessarily. I can't promise you'll be thinking in any coherent sentences but, I happen to think a healthy does of Kurtgasims are just what the doctor ordered. ;)_

_All right, credit where credit is due. The YouTube comment is not mine. I found it on the video I used as a reference while writing this chapter. The comment belongs to IMAGLEEKFORKURT. I tried to ask thier permission on YouTube but apparently the account has been disabled. If this person somehow finds this fic and doesn't want their comment featured, let me know and I will remove it. I found it and it made me laugh so hard, I just couldn't not let it be read. ;)  
>The video I used as a reference and features this comment can be found at<br>_**http :/ www . youtube . com / watch ? v = - TEZ vw EK1EI  
><strong>_Just remove the spaces._

_Leave a review if you want to see Blaine discover he has a taste for pears (of the hip variety, to be more exact). ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi everybody!_

_Whoo! Ok, here's chapter three. After all of your reviews and encouragement (which I can't thank you for enough, by the way) I'm simultaneously eager/terrified about what you'll say about this. But I won't blather on about it._

_Let's take a look and see if there's any hope of Blaine getting out of that river in Egypt. ;)_

_DISCLAIMER: _Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)__

* * *

><p>Once again, there was a description of the video off to the side. Without hesitation, Blaine clicked on the "read more" icon. He had learned his lesson the first time.<p>

No more surprises.

**Greetings freak show babies.  
>It has come to my attention that Schuester's three-ring circus excuse for a club is posting their depravity on the Internet. The only reason I have not taken and destroyed these videos is in the hopes that a viewer will break into the glee club's houses and proceed to sell each one of them on the black market to the highest bidder. I was approached by the pack of un-bathed, hideous wolverine-raised heathens who post these videos. Goggles, Crème-Filled Pastry, and Freckles MaGee asked if they could post the performances of Aretha and my sweet Porcelain. I agreed only so that you could feast your eyes upon talent you will never possess. Watch on and weep, hopeless losers.<br>****General Zod out!  
><strong>…  
><strong>Yeah. That's Coach Sylvester. Anyone who goes to McKinley will understand. To the rest of you, there's no way we can possibly even begin to explain.<br>****Know this. "General Zod" is not humorous, ironic, or an exaggeration.**

Blaine had met Coach Sylvester briefly in the coffee shop (in fact, in a weird sort of way, this whole episode was her fault) and had gotten the impression that, when dealing with her, it was best just to accept certain things.

In other words, some questions were better left unasked.

His cursor quickly found it's way to the play button, his finger hovering over the mouse pad to click.

It hung for a moment.

Two moments.

Three.

Four.

Six.

Ten.

_Get on with it, Blaine_ his internal Wevid shouted (Yes, Blaine was very disturbed about the fact that he had his friends voices in his head acting as a sort of twisted Jiminy Cricket, thanks for asking.) He tried to listen to them. He really did.

But what was he really getting into?

What happened if he watched this video and was right? If Kurt was uncomfortable because of his bullying, what could Blaine really do about it? Wouldn't knowing that Blaine knew only embarrass Kurt further?

Heck, what if he was wrong? What if this video was 'Push It' 2.0?

Blaine shivered (he absolutely _refused_ to call it a tremble) at those thoughts. He didn't even have to close his eyes to see those moves again.

And all his thoughts of those moves came rushing back.

Where in the world had those come from? He'd never seen Kurt like that before. What was he going to do when the pale boy returned on Monday? Blaine's brain had been a babbling mess after a _video_ of Kurt. How was he going to handle the _real_ Kurt Hummel? Blaine thought their friendship was struggling before, what was he going to do if he started thinking about Kurt like _that_?

Blaine quickly shook himself. This was silly. He was being ridiculous.

So, he now had an appreciation for Kurt's more sultry side. So what? He could appreciate a beautiful girl without it meaning anything. It was an aesthetic matter, that's all.

It wasn't as if Kurt had been hideous to him before. (Quite the opposite in fact)

Kurt was attractive. Blaine had always thought so. Friendship didn't blind him to this. Loss of vision couldn't blind Blaine to this. It was a simple fact: Kurt was good-looking, beautiful even (Shut up, Wevid). Even without his outlandish outfits (which Kurt knew how to use perfectly and imaginatively for every occasion, never failing to blow Blaine away), the pale boy was very striking. Just because Blaine was Kurt's friend, that didn't mean he wasn't conscious of this.

Gorgeous blue (though he swears they range from grey like storm clouds to sky blue to emerald green and back again, never settling on just one shade) eyes. Perfect hair that, even lacking product, never appeared to be anything but soft, luscious, and always in place. Flawless marble skin. Features so unique in their elegant masculinity.

Friends could notice those things about each other. Right? Right. (_right_?)

Besides, he had just been caught off guard. Maybe it was because Kurt looked so young. It almost made him a different person. Once it was _his_ Kurt, his thoughts would become those more categorized as the ones about friends (they just _had _to).

Reassured (mildly) Blaine finally pressed played.

_**There was a line of brass instruments, their fanfare blasting their sound, deafening all who listen to anything else.**_

A marching band?

_**Drums joined in, the players shifting seamlessly in an almost military march across the auditorium floor**_

Drum line? A school gym?

This was weird. Where was the stage? Where was the glee club? What's going on?

_**Beautiful girls in matching red and white uniforms come out in two lines, hands on their hips, walking in a way to accentuate their lovely legs.**_

Oh no. Nope. No way. He had obviously clicked on the wrong video.

Blaine had most definitely not signed up for cheerleaders. The opposite of many teenage boys, Blaine was rather annoyed by cheerleaders. With almost all straight friends, he had sat through many a pep rally and had to tolerate many hours of ogling short skirts and he just did not see the appeal.

He had been promised Kurt and he was not going to sit through a video that did not fulfill this promise.

"**Hey"**

Blaine was briefly distracted from clicking the back button by this familiar voice.

When had Mercedes ever been a cheerleader? Surely Kurt would have mentioned…

"**Come on  
><strong>**Kurt Hummel"**

What?

"**Come on girl  
><strong>**I've been waiting for somebody to pick up my stroll"  
><strong>_**Alongside Mercedes, both in cheerio uniforms, Kurt came down the floor, strutting confidently toward the audience.**_

Kurt? A… a cheerleader?

And… Sweet god… His _voice_.

So low… rough… So very male…

Hot.

_**Kurt dropped into a sudden squat, letting a forceful little exhale.  
><strong>_"**Uh!"**

Blaine swallowed thickly, trying (unsuccessfully) to prepare himself for what he was about to see (somehow hitting the pause button never occurred to him. He might not have seen it as his eyes were glued to a certain brunette).

_**Kurt and Mercedes were now in the forefront, swaying to the music.**_

In a valiant effort to keep control, Blaine made a promise to himself.

Eyes above the waist.

He'd learned his lesson during 'Push It'. If he didn't look at those (amazing/delicious/tantalizing/_STOP IT_!) hips, he should be able to keep his wits.

"**Well don't waste time  
><strong>**Give me the sign  
><strong>**Tell me how you want to roll"**

Officially, WMHS was the most attractive group of letters in the history of the written language. But, really, any sort of print would be pleasing if it were stretched across that chest.

A red band, nondescript and fuzzy, was drool worthy on those arms.

So much for above-the-waist salvation.

_**The cheerleaders joined Kurt and Mercedes as they began to dance.**_

Blaine's breath hitched. As previously stated, Blaine had been to many pep rallies in his days.

He knew exactly the kinds of moves cheerleaders did.

Suddenly, his throat and mouth felt very dry.

"**I want somebody  
><strong>**To speed it up for me"**

Oh jeez…

Screw "hot". Kurt's voice was like SEX.

Whoa… ok, Blaine was definitely crossing a line here, aesthetics or not.

"**Then take it down slow"**

But man, even his shoulders, when he moved them like that, sinking lower and…

No! Kurt was his _friend_.

Kurt was someone who mattered in Blaine's life, not merely a body for Blaine to undress with his eyes.

"**There's enough room for both"**

The cheerleaders were in focus now so Blaine had a moment to breathe properly (why hadn't he noticed he had stopped doing so?)

"**Well I can handle that  
><strong>**You just gotta show me where it's at"**

He had to get it together. Cheerleading uniform or not, it was still Kurt

"**Are you ready to go  
><strong>**Are you ready to go"  
><strong>_**The cheerleaders, Mercedes, and Kurt had gathered in the center of the floor. Kurt and Mercedes rose from their kneeling position.**_

Kurt, whose range was more than anyone ever, gave him credit for.

"**If you want it  
><strong>**You already got it"  
><strong>_**All the performers did a cycle motion with their ribs and shoulders, hips rotating in the same direction**_

Kurt, who took a move Blaine had seen over a dozen times and made him see it as truly alluring as it was meant to be.

Oh boy. It was time to get off this train, Anderson.

He couldn't do this to Kurt.

"**If you thought it  
><strong>**It better be what you want"**

And he didn't want this. All he wanted was the relationship he and Kurt used to have. That ease that came with knowing each other so well, spending time together for no reason but simply because silence was better in the other's presence, talking about absolutely everything, that pure happiness that bubbled in his chest only when he was with Kurt, that smile Kurt wore only when he looked at Blaine. That was what he truly wanted.

To entertain thoughts that suggested otherwise was unfair (almost cruel) to Kurt.

He had to stop this.

"**Time is waiting  
><strong>**We only got four minutes to save the world"**

Stop wondering if Kurt still has that uniform.

"**No hesitating  
><strong>**Grab a boy  
><strong>**Grab a girl"**

Stop thinking that everyone else can grab whoever the hell they want as long as they keep their hands off Kurt (stop looking at Kurt and wanting to say _mine_)

"**Time is waiting  
><strong>**We only got four minutes to save the world  
><strong>**No hesitating"  
><strong>_**Back to back, Mercedes stood while Kurt shimmied to the floor.**_

Stop wishing he could be Mercedes and feel Kurt slide down his body.

"**Tick tok  
><strong>**Tick tok  
><strong>**Tick tok"  
><strong>_**Half of the girls stood, swinging their hips, making their skirts fly, on each word.**_

Stop being angry with the AV club for cutting to the other cheerleaders so often.

_**The girls all gathered in the center, leaning their shoulders back, their lower halves pumping into the air.**_

Stop wondering if, had the camera pulled back far enough, he could have seen Kurt thrusting like that.

"**Tick tok  
><strong>**Tick tok  
><strong>**Tick tok"**

Stop staring at Kurt's finishing pose, marveling at his strong body, muscles still taught from performing, chest heaving with his deep pants, a light sheen of sweat making him practically glisten…

Stop those kinds of tangents.

Stop that surge of anger at Mercedes glancing at Kurt, with gob smacked admiration and a hint of attraction as her eyes roam his profile.

Stop feeling that twist in his gut that wants Kurt in this room right now.

Stop everything that isn't focused on watching these videos for the sole purpose of helping Kurt perform 'Animal' next Tuesday.

Stop wondering how he'll feel if he sees Kurt perform 'Animal' with even a fraction of the presence he has in these numbers.

Stop being so excited about it.

Stop. Stop. _STOP_!

Blaine doesn't even bother to let the video finish playing the applause the performance earned. He didn't look for any of the comments below.

Adrenaline from his internal rant (most definitely NOT from Kurt's singing/dancing/body/existence), he clicks on the channel's homepage, scrolls through the videos by date, looking for the most recent.

He's going to watch the last video Kurt did before transferring to Dalton and he's going to find his baby penguin again and he's going to find a way to help him and he's going to be the _best damn friend_ Kurt Hummel has ever had and everything else is banished from his mind until he accomplishes this task.

This type of mind set meant that Blaine was not going to look at the title of this video or it's description. He just clicked and made it full screen, efficiently putting up his blinders to anything else that wasn't his computer screen.

With such singular focus, Blaine didn't notice that he had also banished any filters from his mind. Whatever he thinks of this next video will be uninterrupted commentary, his first knee-jerk reaction, his instinctual feelings. And he would have to face such feelings after the video was done, regardless of wanting them or not. There would be no _stopping_ this time.

**Single Ladies – NEW AND IMPROVED**

This rash oversight would be the undoing of Blaine Anderson.

* * *

><p><em>All in favor of watching Blaine come undone?<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_72... Whoa! 72 reviews! That makes this my most reviewed fic! And it's not even done yet! Thank you all so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying this._

_This chapter is dedicated to my marvelous twin, MUSICALSARELIFE, for lending me a hand when, if I'd been left to my own devices, I would have probably had some sort of epic meltdown and started kicking chairs. And no one wants to see that. So, to you my dear twin, I present this chapter. ;)_

_OH! Real quick before you read on. Just to clear something up. I already said that Blaine and Kurt board at Dalton. Blaine rooms with Wes and Kurt rooms with David. Ok, that's all._

_Any who. I now invite you all to enjoy... SINGLE LADIES!_

_DISCLAIMER: _Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)  
><em>_

* * *

><p>The screen was dark but Blaine could hear the distinct rustling of people getting into place.<p>

The lights came on and there was a moment before the music started, everyone stock still in their starting positions, show smiles plastered on their faces.

_**Kurt was front and center, flanked by girls in black unitards, his outfit complete with painted-on black skinny jeans, a glitter vest, and a black tie around his bare neck. He stood with a hand on his hip, the other in the air, his stance all flair and attitude. A diva in his natural environment.**_

Finally. This was the Kurt he wanted.

No baby-face hiding a sexual deviant.

No cheerleading uniform custom made to fuel fantasies.

This Kurt. _His _Kurt.

Blaine let out a sigh of relief…

"**All the single ladies  
><strong>**All the single ladies  
><strong>**All the single ladies  
><strong>**All the single ladies"  
><strong>_**Kurt shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again, his hip popping to the beat, his shoulders moving with the music.**_

And promptly choked on air.

"**Now put your hands up!"  
><strong>_**Kurt kicked, his leg going higher than any of the girls seemed to expect.**_

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"**Up in the club  
><strong>**We just broke up"  
><strong>_**Kurt stood with his hands on his hips, which punctuated every word with a little side thrust.**_

Oh, come on. This… this just wasn't fair.

"**I'm doing my own little thing  
><strong>**Decided to dip"  
><strong>_**Kurt turned to the side and bent at the waist.**_

What was Kurt thinking? Bending like that, giving the camera (which pretty much translated into _the world_) a perfect view of his ass, especially wearing jeans that hid absolutely nothing.

It's not that Blaine wasn't appreciative. He just felt a little cheated, knowing there were undoubtedly thousands of others on their laptops who were just as thankful for this view as he was.

"**And now you wanna trip  
><strong>**Cause another brother noticed me"**

How did he move like that? Prancing around on those spectacular legs. Kurt had to know what those legs did to people, that there were those who would probably kill for the chance to just…

"**I'm up on him  
><strong>**He up on me"**

Images were flashing before Blaine's mind's eye of _precisely_ what someone would want with those legs. He was starting to feel a little dizzy. Maybe he should sit down (wait, wasn't he already sitting down?).

"**Don't pay him any attention  
><strong>**Just cried my tears  
><strong>**For three good years  
><strong>**You can't be mad at me"**

How had Blaine not noticed his hair before now? Bangs swept up. Disheveled. Absolutely everywhere.

Blaine's fingers twitched, just itching to thread through soft chestnut locks (and possibly never let go).

"**Cause if you liked it"  
><strong>_**With his legs so far apart, it became very clear just how tight those jeans were.**_

Blaine couldn't even say he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting down. His goal had been those now famous (to him) hips, but curiosity had drug his hazel gaze further.

Oh!

Kurt was certainly… well endowed.

"**Then you shoulda put a ring on it"  
><strong>_**Kurt pointed to his ring finger before swiveling his hips around, not once, not twice, but three times before hip-checking the open air to the side of him.**_

Thankfully Blaine was in no immediate mortal danger. He wouldn't have been able to avert his eyes if his life depended on it.

"**Don't be mad once you see that he want it"  
><strong>_**Kurt had one hand at the back of his own head, fingers entangled in his own hair, while his other hand traveled downward, spanking his own rear.**_

Guh… (The closest to an actual thought that Blaine was capable of)

And he'd thought Kurt slapping Finn's ass had been hot.

"**If you liked it  
><strong>**Then you shoulda put a ring on it"  
><strong>_**Once again, a hand on the hip and a hand in the air, Kurt moved across the stage, his hips hitting each beat, his head bopping from side to side in time with those same beats.**_

That pose was just so _Kurt_, the symbolic image of everything Blaine knew as Kurt.

And Blaine really didn't need the reminder that this was the same Kurt he got coffee with, that argued Broadway castings with him, that had stood before Blaine in all his fabulousness that day on the staircase.

He was very much aware, thank you.

But he couldn't help but wonder.

How had he not seen this before?

"**Whoa oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh  
><strong>**Whoa oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh"**

Kurt was standing still now (only his hands were moving) and Blaine let his eyes roam free, starting with the face he knew so well, associated so many memories with, and traveled down the body he would love to start making memories of.

He wasn't sure how to feel about how easy it was to marry the two images.

His eyes settled once again on (what should really be considered, for friends at least) the forbidden region, feeling a twisted sense of gratitude towards those jeans for leaving nothing to his imagination.

"**If you liked it  
><strong>**Then you shoulda put a ring on it"  
><strong>_**Kurt widened his stance and, while the rest of him was stationary, let his hips roll around and around and around, in a marvelous, if almost indecent, display of dancing prowess.**_

What the… Seriously?

_**He paused only for a moment to shake his shoulders and shimmy up and down a few times before resuming.**_

For the love of… KURT! HUMAN HIPS DON'T _DO_ THAT!

It's official: Kurt Hummel would the death of him.

_**Kurt was kneeling while the girls danced around him.  
><strong>_**"****I got gloss on my lips  
><strong>**Man on my hips  
><strong>**Holds me tighter than my Dereon Jeans"**

_One day, he'll be at a party._

**"****Acting up  
><strong>**Drink in my cup"**

_Maybe have a few drinks._

"**I could care less what you think"**

_And he'll meet some guy and he'll start fooling around…_

Blaine's stomach clenched unpleasantly (a jarring contrast to the other feelings that had been floating in his tummy this evening) because now all he could see was that horror film he'd made for Burt Hummel.

But… they'd had the Talk. Blaine was sure of it. Kurt had taken the first step towards being prepared. He'd be informed. Obviously (it was obvious to anyone who saw these videos) Kurt would turn heads but no one would be able to take advantage of him. There was no need to worry.

"**I need no permission"**

If there was going to be any fooling around, it would be Kurt's idea.

"**Did I mention  
><strong>**Don't pay him any attention"**

So why did Blaine's stomach still hurt?

"**Cause you had your turn"**

_I thought the guy you wanted to ask out on Valentine's Day was me._

"**And now you're gonna learn"**

_I don't know what I'm doing._

"**What it really feels like to miss me"**

What? No!

"**Cause if you like it  
><strong>**Then you shoulda put a ring on it"  
><strong>_**Kurt took up his wide stance once more, bending his knees as he thrust out his chest and pelvis.**_

Kurt was not making this easy. Blaine doubted he would be able to be anywhere near the pale boy again without wanting to drag him off to the nearest secluded area and tear away that offensive uniform that had the audacity to hide Kurt under those oppressive layers. He would rip that blazer off, grab a hold of that tie and yank him forward to…

Wait, wait, _wait_! Back up…

Blaine was thinking something important a second ago. Something dire.

Now what was it?

_**Kurt brought his legs together and, in sync with the girls, swayed his hips again and again and again.**_

Damn it, Kurt! Stop being so distracting. This is important (Blaine's sure of that, at least). He needs to remember.

"**Whoa oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh"  
><strong>_**Kurt's dancing suddenly picked up speed.**_

Focus Blaine. Remember now, watch Kurt later (That had to be the worst idea ever).

"**Whoa oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh"  
><strong>_**He was utilizing everything. His arms. Legs. Hips. Chest. Shoulders.**_

Whoa. That was impressive.

No. Think Blaine, think.

"**Whoa oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh oh  
><strong>**Oh oh oh"**

He didn't mean he wanted the video to end.

Forget whatever stray thought he couldn't remember (how important could it have been anyway?).

He wanted Kurt back.

"THAT'S IT!"

Blaine leapt out of his chair, his headphones ripping themselves from his ears. A hand over his racing heart (Blaine's pretty sure he just lost five years of his life from that scare), his eyes searched the room for the source of this disturbance.

Wes was cramming his many notes and books into his bag, a combination of annoyance, disgust, and fear splayed across his face.

"Wes?" Blaine questioned, his heart still hammering.

His roommate shot him a scrutinizing look, scanning him from head to foot, before shoving the last of his study material into his back before shouldering it.

"I'm going down to the library. And since Kurt's back in Lima, I'm going to room with David tonight."

"Um…" Blaine was a little afraid to ask. "Why?"

"Because I cannot study in here with you doing… _that_!" Wes gestured frantically in Blaine's general direction.

"What exactly am I doing that so offends you?" Blaine questioned, eyes narrowed in confusion.

Wes stared at Blaine with wide eyes before a half grossed out, half fearful look covered his features.

"You mean you're doing it without realizing it?"

Blaine wasn't sure if he should nod or not. Was he supposed to understand what was happening?

Wes shuddered as if he'd just been shown an oozing wart.

"Oh god, Blaine! That makes it so much worse!"

"What's worse?" Blaine demanded, perhaps a bit angrier than the situation called for.

But Blaine was seriously fed up with floundering. Was it too much to ask for something to make sense today? (apparently yes, as he would soon learn)

Wes pinched the bridge of his nose, digging deep down for patience.

"Look Blaine, I'm not going to pry into what you do on your own time. And usually, I don't have to because you're pretty low-maintenance as far as roommates go. I always thought I could study through anything. Tonight, you have proved me wrong. Very wrong indeed."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, praying that Wes didn't expect him to figure it out on his own from there.

Wes finally made eye contact, disgust gone and annoyance reigning supreme.

"I can overlook the panting and drooling, the staring at your computer as if you're hoping it'll come to life and ravish you."

Oh no. Blaine so did not want to have this talk.

"I'll even turn a blind eye to you apparently palming yourself under the desk."

Blaine yanked his hand off his lap, putting it on the desk, in plain view (that's so not why it was there. He swears. Really! It _wasn't_!), his face burning and he's desperately retracting every prayer he'd made for Wes to explain this to him.

"And, for the sake of both our sanities, I'm going to assume that you growled at the screen because someone was taking the name of Harry Potter in vain and you were in a rage. If you were growling for any other reason, I wish to remain ignorant."

Wes adjusted his backpack, inching towards the door, as eager for an escape as Blaine was for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him.

"So, I'm going to leave you to whatever it is – Please _don't tell me_ – and you have a pleasant evening together."

Blaine decided to blame a sick, twisted, dark piece of his soul that he never knew existed for what happened next. It was the only explanation for the sudden bout of morbid curiosity.

"What exactly did I do? If you could put up with all that, what is it that's chasing you out of the room?"

Wes gave Blaine a look from his place in the door jam. It was something between bewilderment and pity.

"Blaine. You're _whimpering_."

* * *

><p><em>Leave a review if you want Kurt to make Blaine make those noises in person as much as I do.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_Over. 100. Reviews. I can't breathe... Thank you all so much!_

_Chapter 5. Finally, huh?_

_This chapter is dedicated to my remarkable twin MUSICALSARELIFE for helping me defeat the beast that WOULD. NOT. DIE!_

_Any who, on with the show!_

_DISCLAIMER: _Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)__

* * *

><p>Lying in bed awaiting another Monday, most people wonder what had happened to Sunday. It seemed to have slipped away like sand through fingertips.<p>

Blaine Anderson, staring at darkness in the direction of his ceiling, was not most people. He knew exactly what had happened to his Sunday.

He had been able to burn through almost all of the New Directions Channel videos featuring Kurt in solitude. Wes did not return from David's room all weekend and Blaine wasn't sure if he should be more embarrassed or thankful.

His Sunday could in fact be documented by the viewing of these performances (and each step towards Blaine's loss of sanity).

**Toxic – Brittany Spears  
><strong>**Glee Sex Riot #2**

Blaine had never wanted to be a hat so badly in his life.

**Bad Romance – Lady Gaga**

Dancing and strutting and flexibility. In heels. Ten. Inch. Heels.

**Give Up The Funk – Parliament**

Yes, Kurt really could sing that deeply. And that voice _did_ things to Blaine (he'd rather not talk specifics).

**Le Jazz Hot – Victor/Victoria**

No sex appeal? How had he ever thought that? Not only can Kurt most certainly be sexy, Blaine's beginning to think that there is not a single thing the boy _can't_ do.

Sufficient to say, Blaine is well versed in the previous performances of one Kurt Hummel.

But, as many times as he watched these videos, he wasn't getting any answers. For instance…

**Defying Gravity – Wicked  
><strong>**Diva Off – Rachel Berry vs. Kurt Hummel**

Blaine had to wonder why, when Rachel performed, it was in front of the Glee club but when Kurt sang, he was alone, as if it were a rehearsal. The description provided by the AV club, which had been so helpful in other videos, had suddenly turned cryptic. It basically said that there was a reason, but it wasn't their place to say.

**Happy Days Are Here Again/Get Happy – Barbara Streisand/Judy Garland**

For such jovial song, Kurt had a heavy air of sadness surrounding him. The smile didn't reach his eyes, which were an almost colorless grey. Blaine knew that when Kurt was happy, actually happy, his eyes shone sky blue, lighting up his whole face. This video did not contain a happy Kurt.

**I Want To Hold Your Hand – The Beatles**

Blaine had shed tears and choked on sobs, watching Kurt look so broken, as if nothing could fix him. He was horrified when he found that the date of the performance was _before_ everything Karofsky had put Kurt through, but, once again, nothing was explained about Kurt's song choice. (He was getting more and more frustrated by the AV club's sudden need to protect the privacy of the people performing because how could he possibly help Kurt when he didn't know what was going on).

And, to top it all off, he was no closer to helping Kurt perform 'Animal' than he was after the Saturday show for Crawford (had it really been only a day since then?).

He knew that Kurt certainly had the _ability_. There was no question of that.

But something was holding him back. It wasn't the bullying but there had to be something.

And Blaine had been wracking his brain only to come up with an embarrassing _nothing_.

Blowing out a deep sigh, Blaine dug the heels of his hands into his tired eyes wishing he could just sleep, just get a bit of peace for a few hours.

Needless to say, his wish was not granted. Blaine knew that he had to admit defeat. He's never going to get there on his own.

He has to talk to Kurt.

He reached for his phone, debating sending a text now to ask for a call or wait until morning and maybe meet up at the Lima Bean before class.

Face to face is better, he decides.

The pressure in his chest slowly began to lessen.

This is good. He and Kurt will meet up and maybe he'll get a few more details on the Talk, see where Kurt stands on the subject. He should probably also apologize for being so insistent in Kurt's room when his friend was obviously uncomfortable. It was a bit insensitive. He should have respected that Kurt wasn't asking for help and he shouldn't have forced his way in like…

Like he did by convincing Mr. Hummel to give Kurt the Talk.

Oh no…

Kurt had been so embarrassed and flustered when Blaine had tried to talk to him. He can only imagine how the boy must have felt being confronted by his father on the same subject on the same day.

And he'd had no say in the matter. First with a friend who couldn't take a hint and then with a father who wouldn't take no for an answer.

That had to have been humiliating, to have two people, whose affection and respect Kurt always seemed so afraid of losing, forcing such a sensitive subject despite his obvious discomfort. And pride was everything to Kurt. He'd been able to survive as long as he had through holding his head high, always appearing dignified and unaffected. Blaine had taken that away, stripping Kurt bare and defenseless.

_Oh_ _no_…

People had always tried to push Kurt in directions he didn't want to go. Blaine had just joined the ranks of everyone who had forced something onto Kurt.

Oh… no…

How could he be so stupid?

He had gone about this all wrong, ignored every sign that told him so, plunging ahead, so sure he knew best. Kurt would surely be furious or worse, incredibly hurt that Blaine had steamrolled over what _he_ wanted, disregarding his feelings as if they didn't matter (which they did. So much).

Blaine put his phone back on his beside table. He certainly wasn't going to set up that coffee date now. Right now, he had to get to work, try to develop a plan to make this right (he seemed to be making those a lot lately). He had to do something that wouldn't make everything worse (he doubted things _could_ get worse but, knowing Blaine, he'd find a way).

As much as Blaine hated it, he had to take the safest option. Unfortunately, that meant doing nothing.

Taking initiative and getting himself involved had only led to trouble. He meant well, but Blaine was quickly learning that the road to Hell was indeed paved with good intentions. In fact, it seemed that all his actions towards Kurt, though they came from a good place, only seemed to make the countertenor's life harder.

The sexy lessons.

Singing together at Christmas (there was a _reason_ Kurt thought Blaine was going to ask him out, you know)

Auditioning for the Warblers solo.

And just look how well "courage" had worked out. (That hurt, more deeply than Blaine would ever say. He and Kurt had never talked about it, but notice how the two had dropped what had once been the motto of their friendship)

Maybe, it would be better if he let Kurt drive for a while. As much as it would kill him to take a back seat when there was something wrong, Blaine was running out of ways to fix it.

Much as he hated it, now was a time to pull back.

He'd have to let Kurt come to him. If his friend needs help when he hears about 'Animal' still being an option, than Kurt will ask for it. Until then, he will just have to hope that Kurt still feels like he can (still wants to) ask Blaine for help

It's not the best plan and it leaves a bitter taste in Blaine's mouth, but it's all he has.

Besides, it should give Blaine enough time to figure out how to help (if Kurt asks. Please, _please_, let him ask) without letting on that he knows what Kurt is capable of.

The countertenor doesn't ever have to know about Blaine's weekend Kurt-a-thon.

Blaine rolled over in his bed, back facing his phone, removing temptation to come clean. A sick feeling settled in his stomach because this will be the first time he's ever lied to Kurt. Their friendship had always been based on honesty. Kurt had always told him the truth, even when it was hard or might be upsetting. Kurt should receive nothing short of that in return. And Blaine hates himself for not living up to what Kurt deserves.

But, he just can't do anymore damage. He's not sure their friendship can handle it.

Blaine shut his eyes, willing morning to come soon so he can start to push this mess behind him.

...

Almost ten minutes pass before Blaine realizes there is still one problem he hasn't faced: a discovery he has made on that Sunday that refused to disappear. Blaine knows there's no denying it (and not for a lack of trying) and finally admits it to himself.

Blaine is strongly attracted to Kurt

That was the most polite way of putting it. Others (Wevid) might have a more colorful phrasing, but this was the basic concept.

It's not a big deal, objectively. It makes perfect logical sense.

Kurt is an attractive young man (in _so_ many ways) and Blaine, as a homosexual male, appreciates it (a lot).

Problem is, Blaine doubts he can be objective about the most important relationship in his life.

He just doesn't know what to do. How can a friendship continue if one harbors _those_ thoughts about the other? How can their easy comfort with each other _not_ be affected by the tension such an attraction will cause?

How is Blaine supposed to figure this out when his main confidant is the source of the problem?

Blaine squeezed his eyes tightly shut, clenching his jaw, trying to calm down.

One problem at a time.

Blaine has to make sure Kurt still wants him in his life at all before he even considers asking for a different role (Which he isn't even sure he wants. He's not quite ready to dwell on that yet. It terrifies him in a way nothing else ever has and there's only so much he can take at once).

Blaine sighs heavily, once more trying to sleep. Monday will come and he and Kurt will deal with the 'Animal' crisis and then they'll get back on track, put themselves back together and reaffirm their places with each other.

That's all he'll let himself worry about for tonight.

With a sense of finality, Blaine shuts his eyes to let his mind clear (try, anyway) and have sleep take him under its understanding wing.

…

Another ten minutes and Blaine's eyes snap open.

He may not be dealing with it but Blaine _is_ still very much attracted to Kurt. And his thoughts of his friend in the last twenty-four hours have been far from _friendly_. He can't even listen to those songs anymore without reacting in a way that sends his roommate running out the door.

Tomorrow, he has to see Kurt. Up close. In person. All day.

Kurt, who thinks all Blaine sees when he looks at the pale boy is gas pains.

Shit.

* * *

><p><em>Anyone even want to guess what's going to happen once Kurt gets back?<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Wow! This chapter took forever! Thank you all for your patience._

_And your reviews? I'm about to go into cardiac arrest from the sheer amount of heart-pounding love I feel from you guys. Thank you all so much. ;)_

_This chapter is dedicated, yet again, to my most remarkable twin, MUSICALSARELIFE. I could NOT have done this without her. She's just too fabulous for words and I siriusly (That's how I spell it now) suggest you guys go read her stuff. Any who, d__ue to her, I shall clear up two things._

_First off, when I say "common room", I mean those random rooms at Dalton with couches and desks that seem to serve no purpose (like the one where Kurt and Blaine sang 'Baby It's Cold Outside')._

_The second thing is just measurements:  
>David: 5' 11 12''  
><em>_Kurt: 5' 10 1/2''  
>Yes, I actually visited three separate sights for this information. Those are the actual heights of Titus Makin Jr. and Chris Colfer, thus are the heights of David and Kurt. Let no one question my accuracy. ;)<em>

_That should do it. Let's see what kind of trouble Blaine can get into in the course of one chapter. ;)_

_DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)  
><em>

* * *

><p>David Thompson loved being part of the Warblers. He really did. A school sanctioned opportunity to burst into song, bust a move, and do what he loved with people he liked, and basically have a ball every day. Who wouldn't love that?<p>

And he genuinely liked the Warblers themselves. They were his best friends. And not the kind of best friends that passed each other in the hallways and played video games every other weekend. They were the kind who knew all the embarrassing rejection stories, who knew what chick flicks they all secretly cried at, who had absolutely no filter, who would be best men at each others' weddings, and would give speeches that would embarrass _the hell_ out of the man of the hour. There were some awesome dudes in the Warblers.

He just hated the council.

That might sound weird, since David himself is on the council along with one of his above mentioned best friends (Thad) and his partner in the greatest bromance in the history of ever (Wes), but it's true.

He doesn't hate the _people_ on the council. He hates that whenever the council calls the meetings to order, everyone enters Warbler Mode.

And Warbler Mode dudes? Not fun at all. In fact, they're kind of pricks.

David much preferred the Thad who hummed 'Gotta Get Back To Hogwarts' under his breath when he was bored, who vehemently denied his gigantic man-crush on Darren Criss (no one bought it for a minute), and who ate Red Vines like they were going out of style. Warbler Mode Thad had a stick the size of Babe Ruth's bat shoved up his butt.

Blaine's dapperness and charm was just something people got used to once they got to know him, like the fact that he jumped on furniture and used an entire bottle of gel on his hair each morning. It was what made Blaine, Blaine. They loved him for it. But Warbler Mode Blaine? He was arrogant. Smarmy. Kind of an attention whore.

Even Wes fell victim to this. Sure, he was a little stiff sometimes (only when he was without David too long and, being the considerate bromantic partner that he was, David did everything in his power to make sure this didn't happen too often) but in Warbler Mode, he was kind of _mean_. David can understand voting on the motions, but does the person who made the suggestion really have to stand in front of everyone and (ninety percent of the time) watch their idea be so brutally shot down. Is it really necessary to put them on display like that, to cause that kind of humiliation? David sure doesn't think so. It's unfair and uncalled for.

Similar stories apply to the rest of the club. It even applies to David (he shudders just thinking about it).

But the Warbler Mode he hates the most?

Kurt Hummel. No contest.

Kurt at lunch and after school is really funny. Always has a quick quip up his sleeve. And there's a hidden sweetness. He acts like he's above them all and that he's annoyed with their antics but he keeps coming back. David can even see a small spark of fondness in those cold blue eyes.

Roommate Kurt is really high maintenance and can be a real bitch sometimes. David's convinced this stepbrother ("Frankenteen", as Kurt calls him but David's pretty sure that's not his real name) should be thanking David for taking the bullet of living with the diva. But the pale boy keeps things interesting: watching him flip out when David hid one of the crucial steps in that famous moisturizing routine was _hysterical_. He's a super neat freak and yells about leaving dirty clothes on the bed and always reorganizes everything, but David actually considers this a plus. Their dorm was orderly and (considering two teen boys lived there) smelled really good. David can't remember ever having a room that clean (EVER!).

Kurt with Blaine was cute (in a really sickening way). His eyes sparkle and he gets all giggly and blushes and just looks so damn happy David can't bring himself to make puking sounds the way he would at other couples (but if they don't get together soon, David swears, he will _kill_ someone).

But the second Kurt goes to a Warbler meeting, all the Kurts David likes disappear. No quips. No bitching. No happiness. It's like someone dipped him in bleach and pressed the mute button. After his first day (after Warbler Mode Wes shot down his ideas and was so cold about it), Kurt didn't make any more suggestions. He didn't ask for any more auditions. He didn't talk. Lately they were lucky if he made eye contact with anyone.

But what was really starting to scare David was that _this_ Kurt was starting to show up away from the council.

Warbler Mode Kurt was starting to mope around their dorm. He was turning down chances to hang out with the guys who were so close to being the kind of best friends with Kurt that they were with David. He was looking at Blaine without giggles or blushes, instead seeming broken and one wrong word away from tears.

And that's whom David spotted in the common room that Monday morning before class, pouring over a textbook like his life _literally_ depended on it. That "I'm-teetering-on-the-edge-and-one-thing-is-all-it's-going-to-take-to-push-me-off" look was on his face and David knew he had to intervene.

Even after he'd taken the encyclopedia of Charlemagne away, Kurt kept staring at his lap, as if the information he needed was sewn into Dalton's uniform slacks. Kurt blinked a few times as he seemed to realize that he was staring at fabric. He looked up and David's heart clenched at the bags under his eyes (which were dark enough to be bruises, as if someone had punched Kurt in the face). The eyes themselves had turned gray (eyes can change color? David would have to ask Wes later). His fair skin had gone from remarkably pale to almost translucent and it only scared David even more.

Kurt is certainly not sleeping. And judging by his gaunt face, he's not eating either.

"David? Is there a reason you're holding my book above your head? You're only one inch taller than I am so, if this is a game of keep-away, it's poorly conceived."

His voice is absolutely dead. No lilt. No sarcasm. No attitude. No _Kurt_.

David's jaw tightens in determination.

This stops now.

"Take a break." It's not a request.

Kurt sighs in a burdened manner, barely managing to roll his eyes. "I don't have time for a break David. I have to study."

"You don't have any tests today."

"How do you know?" Kurt defends weakly.

"Kurt? I'm in _all_ of your classes."

A quiet "oh" is all he gets after that. Kurt looks away, picking absentmindedly at the lapel of his blazer, looking so tiny all of a sudden. David lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kurt flinches at the contact and David isn't sure if it's the right thing to keep his hand there and let Kurt know that he's not going unnoticed. Maybe it would have been kinder to just let the boy be.

"You need to relax Kurt. You're going to make yourself sick."

"I'm fine." Kurt won't make eye contact.

David takes a seat next to the boy, his hand still on Kurt's shoulder (which is trembling ever so slightly).

"No. You're not."

And he's really not because he doesn't even try to argue.

It's odd. David had been ready to go ten rounds with the fiery boy. He should be relieved that Kurt gave up so quickly. In the end, it only breaks his heart.

Kurt lets out a long (shaky) exhale, before finally conceding and looking into David's brown eyes with his own gray (almost lifeless) ones.

"Five minutes." He offers. And David knows it's the best deal he's going to get. He gives Kurt what he hopes is a reassuring grin.

"That's more like it."

Kurt sighs in defeat, rolling his eyes at his roommate's persistence, and sinks deeper into the couch cushions, arms crossed tightly over his chest, legs pulled in close, curling himself into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, as if hoping this will mean that no one will see him.

David frowns. That doesn't look very relaxing.

Thankfully, he always comes prepared.

"Oh, Kurtie." He calls sweetly. "I brought you a present."

Kurt raises a single eyebrow, no doubt annoyed by the nickname, but intrigued nonetheless.

David quickly whips out Kurt's I-pod and newest copy of Vogue. Kurt stares at them for a moment before glancing back up at David, eyes narrowed in suspicion (but hey, there's a little color in there! David must be doing something right).

"You went through my things?" He questions, voice quiet and cold and very dangerous.

Finally, Warbler Mode Kurt seems to be retreating. David's not completely thrilled that he's getting Roommate Bitch Kurt in return, but beggars can't be choosers.

"It was for a good cause." Just to be safe, David struck a puppy dog pout (He'd seen Blaine work wonders with it).

It seemed to pay off. Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes, but there was still a sincere little smile on his face. He took the items David was offering, settling in his seat, looking more comfortable and less like he would be kicked out if he made the slightest disturbance.

David had just one more trick up his sleeve. "Wait, Kurtie. I've got one more thing for you."

Kurt paused in the detangling of his headphones, sending David a quick glare that told him to drop the nickname and drop it quick, before his face melted into curiosity.

Feeling (deservedly) proud of himself, David brandished his final gift from his pocket with a flourish.

Kurt stared at David's hand, as if he wasn't sure it was really there in front of him. He spoke without looking away from it.

"A… a _lollipop_?"

David rolled his eyes dramatically at his friend's foolishness. Honestly, the things he had to teach this boy.

"No. It's a cherry Tootsie Blow Pop. Obviously."

Kurt's eyes (which were getting a little greener the longer David talked) flicked back and forth between David's smug grin and the hand offering him candy. Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and gave David a taste of the patented "Hummel Bitch, Please" look.

"I'm sorry, I believe you have me mistaken for a five-year-old."

David resisted the urge to point out that Kurt crossing his arms and getting all huffy like that was a very five-year-old thing to do. He valued his life after all.

"It's goooooooood." David waved the candy in (what he considered) an enticing manner.

Kurt merely continued his glare. "It's nothing but sugar…"

"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." David sang cheerily, still waving the lollipop around. "The medicine, go dow-own. Medicine, go down. Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine, go down, in a most delightful way."

Kurt stared wide-eyed at his friend (who had steadily grown louder) and glanced apologetically at all the other students who were trying to study, trying to convey through a simple look that he did not condone this behavior.

Once his gaze fell back onto David, the dark skinned boy merely smiled, again waving the candy in front of Kurt's face.

"Take it or there's another verse."

Whatever tirade on the unhealthiness of lollipops Kurt had prepared, died on his tongue. He shut his mouth and hung his head in defeat, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"There's no arguing with you, is there David?"

"Nope. I really don't know why people try."

"Another of life's eternal mysteries."

They sit like that for a moment before, with a resigned huff, Kurt snatches the candy, rips off its wrapper, and spitefully sticks it in his mouth. Lips curled around the stick, Kurt shoots David a look, as if to ask "Happy now?"

David grins, stands, and gives Kurt's shoulder a final pat, as if to say "Very."

And don't think for a minute that David missed the fact that, when the pale boy thought no one was looking, Kurt smiled around the lollipop, obviously liking the flavor.

Feeling incredibly accomplished, David strutted over to another table in the common room, just as Wes and Blaine arrived.

Whatever went on between them during the weekend (David would love to know what but Wes had refused to talk about it, saying that he wouldn't dare inflict that kind of trauma onto anyone else) seemed to have been forgiven as they were talking with relative ease. David took a seat and waited for an appropriate pause in the conversation for him to interject.

"I talked to Thad earlier this morning."

Wes didn't look up from his notes but angled in his seat to face David. And no, David wasn't insulted. Wes always did this because if he stopped studying every time David needed to talk to him, he would have failed out of Dalton Freshman year. Through the years of their bromance, Wes became a master of multitasking.

Blaine on the other hand, seemed very distracted. He had a book open but he wasn't reading. David wondered how long it would take the curly-haired boy to realize that it was upside down.

What was on the little hobbit's mind?

"I think the harmony works beautifully and the audience reaction was optimal." Wes stated simply.

David nodded, acknowledging his fellow councilmen's (no, they weren't in Warbler Mode yet and if David was lucky, the conversation would change before that happened) reasoning.

"Thad says no way."

Wes looked up, a silent question in his eyes. David made a face to convey the severity of Thad's protests. Wes nodded once, understanding, and returned to his notes.

"Very well. 'Animal' is out."

That got Blaine's attention.

"Wait! What?"

"We're not doing 'Animal' anymore." Wes stated.

"Why not?" Blaine demanded.

"Thad said no."

"_Why_!" Blaine hissed through his teeth.

David interjected here, as he was the only one who knew (and because Blaine looked ready to explode if he didn't get more than a one sentence answer).

"We'll never get the judges to let us use those risers, never mind the bubble machine. Without them, the number falls a bit flat. Not to mention, except for the girls who asked for your number, the rest of the Crawford girls are dating one of the Warblers. They were kind of biased."

Blaine stared at David for a while before turning on Wes.

"I thought you said it was a good number." And Blaine is a lot angrier than he should be right now. David bristles slightly at hearing that kind of tone directed at Wes (He's protective. Sue him).

"It _was_." Wes says, seemingly nonplussed. "Musically anyway. But if Thad thinks it won't be executed well, we're going to listen to him."

This is the way the council works. Wes is great with the harmonies and arranging their music. Any song choice has to get his stamp of approval. David helped with this, bringing any suggestions other Warblers had to Wes for consideration. David was also in charge of the choreography. He arranged both the crazy flips and jumps of the Dalton performances and the stiff sidestep of competition (three guesses as to which one was done by Warbler Mode David). But, Thad is the king of presentation. Once a number passes Wes's musical criteria and the dance meets David's standards, Thad looks over the performance. He knows what works for what audience. No matter how good the vocals or the moves may be, if Thad says it doesn't work, they don't do it.

And David's confused about this anger from their soloist because Blaine knows that. He's never questioned the council before. What's got him so upset?

Apparently Wes has the same concern. "What exactly is the problem Blaine? Saturday you were having a heart attack because 'Animal' was still an option. You should be thrilled. Now Kurt has less pressure on him and has more time to work on whatever it was that made him so uncomfortable." Wes said the last part while waving his hand as if to shoo Blaine away, telling him to find the countertenor to share the happy news.

David flinched at this. He'd forgotten that canceling this number meant taking away Kurt's solo. Poor kid.

He was kind of relieved when Blaine didn't immediately take off to find Kurt. He would have been really disappointed if all his work to get the pale boy out of Warbler Mode was thwarted so quickly.

Instead, Blaine groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, muttering angrily to himself.

David wasn't close enough to hear. If he had been, he would have only heard one word repeated again and again.

"Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_!"

That was really the only word Blaine could come up with at the moment. It aptly suited his situation after all.

How, in the name of all that was good and holy in this god-forsaken universe, could he continuously be this unfailingly STUPID?

Of course 'Animal' was a ridiculous number. The choreography would never work with the kind of stage they would have to use for Regionals and no judge would appreciate the mess the bubble machine would make. And really, what on earth possessed him to think that selling sex appeal at a school choir competition in conservative Ohio was, in any way, shape, or form, a good idea? Of course the council rejected it.

But that wasn't why Blaine was a certifiable moron. Not by a long shot.

Blaine remembers his first solo with the Warblers, remembers feeling so excited and proud. He had gone through a completely flawless rehearsal the day before the council decided the song wouldn't be used for competition. Blaine had been crushed. At first, he'd thought it was his fault, that he had somehow disappointed the Warblers and that they were never going to give him a solo ever again and maybe even kick him out of the club. This was not the case and Wes (having noticed Blaine's distress) explained the council's method and assured Blaine that he had done nothing wrong. He'd been upset that his first number would never see the light of day but Blaine would always have the memory of that first performance with the Warblers, of the happiness and pride that had swelled inside him in that moment. It was one of his most precious memories. A lot of Warblers felt that way about their first solos.

Blaine had ripped that away from Kurt.

Kurt had been able to enjoy his first solo for all of two minutes before Blaine trampled all over his friend like Godzilla over Tokyo. _That_ was going to be what Kurt remembered.

Kurt, who had been through so much terror and pain, could have really used a good memory to visit in the middle of the night. And Blaine just had to come in and ruin it.

And it just kept getting worse because all the stress, that pressure, those damned lessons, that argument, putting Kurt through the ringer was for _nothing_.

The pale boy was sure to think that 'Animal' being cut was his fault. Blaine had practically _told_ him that his faces had ruined the number, so any assurances from his (so-called) mentor weren't going to mean much.

Blaine realizes, while his stomach is constricting rather painfully, that the flimsy plan he'd come up with last night had just fallen apart in front of his very eyes.

No 'Animal', no need for sex appeal.

No sex appeal, no Kurt thinking he needs help displaying it.

No Kurt in need, no need for Blaine.

No need for Blaine, no chance for Blaine to make things right.

Great. Just great.

How is he supposed to mend their friendship now? Their argument was unresolved but the fight itself is no longer relevant. So where do they go from here? The fight is far from over but it has nowhere to go. There's almost no point. Should they just move on?

No, Blaine decides. They had tried that after his date with Rachel and it left so many cracks in their once strong and steady relationship. More and more, he would look at Kurt and feel like the pale boy wasn't telling him something. And Blaine was just as guilty. He found himself editing his words around Kurt and he _hated_ it. Watching what he said was something he did with his parents, with teachers, with his peers, with _anyone who wasn't Kurt_.

They were free with each other. That was what made their relationship so special and it's the one thing Blaine thinks they've lost.

He has to get it back. He has to get Kurt back. Blaine _needs_ him.

Being passive obviously wasn't going to work because Kurt has no reason to approach him now (he's not even going to think about the possibility that Kurt doesn't want to approach Blaine. It's just not the case. It can't be. Surely he means just as much to Kurt as Kurt means to him. Right?). But Blaine knows he can't just charge in and force everything to be ok.

Maybe it's time for them to talk, really _talk_. It was what he had wished for after he'd returned to Dalton two days ago. Time to make it happen.

Blaine took a deep breath, steeling himself for such a talk. Slowly, he dragged his hands down his face, finally facing the world again.

Wes was buried in his English book. Blaine should really apologize for snapping earlier. His roommate had done nothing to deserve that. Plus, he'd been really understanding (read: didn't tell David) about the weekend _incident_.

The other half of Wevid had a book (although Blaine's pretty sure it's not David's because he can't remember ever seeing his friend reading up on Charlemagne) operating as an armrest as he leans his cheek into his hand, staring at someone with worry creasing his usually carefree face.

Blaine follows David's gaze and the sight makes him simultaneously thrilled, furious, terrified, depressed, and want to throw up.

Yes, he's aware of how fitting this is. Speak of the devil and all that.

There sits one Kurt Hummel.

It should worry him how, despite all the conflicting emotions in him fighting for first place, this ridiculous grin instantly slaps itself to his face the moment he sees that boy. It should, but he really can't be bothered right now.

Taking in Kurt's position, he's not entirely sure why David looks so bothered.

Kurt is sitting with his long legs stretched out along the couch, reading his Vogue magazine (Blaine chuckles to himself because, really, what else would Kurt Hummel be reading) with his headphones firmly in place.

Blaine is very much in favor of this. Dalton was a lot to adjust to and it's good that Kurt wasn't letting himself get too stressed. The pale boy works incredibly hard and it's reassuring to see that Kurt knows when to take a break.

But what is he eating?

Blaine's jaw slackens just slightly at the sight of Kurt with candy. In all the time he's known Kurt, this is a first.

No. Blaine's breath doesn't hitch when he sees that it's a lollipop. Why would you think that?

Kurt was balancing the magazine on his knee with one hand, happily oblivious to the world thanks to his headphones. He has the thin white stick pinched between the long, elegant fingers of his free hand. He brings the candy to his mouth, sometimes licking, sometimes wrapping his lips partially round the sugary ball and sucking, his tongue darting out to catch the last bits of residue flavor left on his lips each time the candy is removed.

Blaine bites his lip, convinced he's about to taste blood but refuses to let up on the pressure. He's got bigger things to worry about.

Because he is not doing this again.

He is not marveling at how that tongue's skill is being wasted on a piece of candy that can't truly appreciate what's being done.

He is not noticing how each suck makes Kurt's sweet pink lips turn red and luscious and shiny, how those lips are begging for attention.

No. 'Single Ladies' is not playing in his head.

He's not going to let this go any farther. He has more control than this. He is Blaine Anderson, damn it: Dapper and gentlemanly to a fault. He does not think like this, stare like this, turn into a babbling puddle of hormones like this. And most definitely not over his best friend.

He just needs to look away and get himself together. Stop staring at Kurt's mouth lavishing that candy with attention and everything will be fine.

_Just look away_.

A tongue darts out and licks a wet line up the side of the lollipop before disappearing back into the mouth from whence it came_._

_Look away_.

Out it comes again, the tip traveling from where candy meets stick to the very top and that tongue glides over stained red lips as it slips back home.

_That means now_,_ Blaine_.

Plump shiny lips part, allowing the candy partial entrance.

_Come on_, _Blaine_. _Have some restraint_.

But, even when the lollipop slides back out, Kurt let it rest against his mouth as he reads something in his magazine. He purses his lips in concentration.

Blaine's fists clench suddenly.

The lollipop is still pressed to those pouted lips, almost like Kurt is kissing it.

_For god's sake_! _Is Kurt going fucking steady with that blow pop_?

(Blaine makes himself a promise. Never use the words _Kurt_, _fucking_, or _blow_ in the same sentence ever again.)

_Seriously Blaine_. _Look away right now or else_. _This can only end badly_.

The candy is back in Kurt's mouth, nearly half the stick as well. Using his now free hand to turn the page, Kurt's lips pucker around the white stick, no doubt to aid his tongue and teeth in holding the lollipop in place. After having succeeded in reaching the new page, nimble fingers grasped what little of the stick was still visible.

Kurt sucks hard, hallowing out his cheeks, as he slowly pulls it out and it finally exits his mouth with a resounding pop. Kurt smiles softly to himself, obviously having enjoyed that, and places the round red ball right back between his parted lips, sucking once again.

_SLAM!_

Blaine leapt out of his chair, almost toppling it over, and only kept his balance by grabbing a hold of the table's edge.

"You are UNBELIEVABLE!" Wes snarled, hurling his things into his bag.

Blaine honestly doubted he'd ever seen Wes this angry.

He's also pretty sure he's never seen David this amused.

While his bromantic partner packed his things, utterly seething, David had a hand clapped over his mouth, tiny snorts escaping his valiant efforts to keep quiet.

Wes noticed anyway, glaring at the other boy. "It's NOT funny!"

David obviously disagreed and nodded vigorously to make this clear.

"Oh sure! You can laugh it up all you want, Thompson. You don't have to live with him!" Wes hissed, but to no avail as David's mirth doubled, snickers now joining the snorts of amusement.

Wes grabbed his bag, huffing indignantly because no one was sympathizing with his suffering. "Fine! I give up. Good luck passing Johnson's test without my notes." Even that doesn't deter David and now the boy has given up on hiding it, full out laughing while tears leaked out of his eyes from the sheer humor of it all (blatantly ignoring the stares he was getting from other Dalton students whose studies were being interrupted during this laugh riot.

Wes turned on Blaine. "And you! You… _you_… God, there's not even a word for it!"

With that, Wes stormed out in a fashion that would do any diva proud.

Speaking of which…

Blaine's eyes snap back to Kurt, who is staring after Wes, one ear bud removed, utter confusion covering his face. Blaine begged for Kurt to look his way until those blue eyes found him. Now he'd give anything for Kurt to look anywhere else.

A sudden flush covers the pale boy's features (for what reason, Blaine's not exactly sure) and the countertenor is quick to gather his things, tossing the candy into the nearest trashcan as if it had suddenly become hot and would burn Kurt if he held on another moment.

Kurt passes him on the way out and Blaine hates himself a little for not being able to say anything to stop his friend (he hates himself a lot for watching Kurt's hips until the boy is out of his sightline).

Blaine is finally able to turn to David, who is starting to choke on his own laughter, still refusing to acknowledge the looks he's getting from the other occupants of the common room who, no doubt, are fearing for his sanity.

"Bl-lai-aine?" He manages through barking laughs, grinning ear to ear.

And if that look didn't terrify Blaine, David's eyes flicking to where Kurt had been moments ago sure did.

There's a sinking feeling in his stomach, even before David speaks.

Today's lessons haven't even started yet. Blaine shares four classes with David. And Kurt. At the same time. Then there was Warbler's practice.

And David _knows_.

This is going to be the longest day of his life.

"Did you just _whimper_?"

* * *

><p><em>For the record, that doesn't count as Kurt making Blaine make that noise in person. Kurt has to be doing it on purpose. ;)<em>

_Anyone who reviews gets one of David's lollipops._


	7. Chapter 7

_*hiding from ALEX RIDE's rabid invisible ninja attack cow* It is truly unforgivable how long this has taken me to update._

_Thanks to everyone who's been encouraging me with this story and has been so patient (or impatient enough to send carnivorous bovines after me to get me motivated). Special thanks to my beloved twin MUSICALSARELIFE for some good advice on this particular chapter and the one after it._

_Let's see how Blaine's day went, shall we?_

_DISCLAIMER: __Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)_

* * *

><p>Blaine made his way to his dorm late that afternoon. Wes had stayed behind with David and Thad for the post-rehearsal council meeting so he had the room to himself. He placed his bag in his desk chair, stepped out of his shoes, and removed his blazer, hanging it up in his closet, before heading towards his bed<p>

Letting his legs give out, his muscles go slack, tension leaving his entire body as he collapsed onto the mattress, Blaine raked his fingers through his hair (he didn't even have the energy to care about the gel) than ran his hands down his face, the heels pressing hard into his eyes until white spots started appearing behind his lids.

Yanking the pillow from underneath his head, Blaine grasped either end, folded it around his face, and screamed for about three minutes straight.

"Longest day of his life" didn't even _begin_ to cover it.

He and Kurt hadn't talked at all. He had tried to catch the countertenor at breakfast, had tried to walk him to his first period class, had tried to meet up with him after it was over, but each time, Kurt slipped away. When the pale boy chose someone else for his partner in their second period, Blaine stopped trying. Kurt obviously wanted space and he was going to respect that.

It still felt like a knife twisting in his gut when Kurt sat in the very back corner of Warbler's practice. They usually sat together on the loveseat closest to the Council's table. Blaine, as lead soloist, was never seated for long but it was always nice to start off each meeting with Kurt by his side. In fact, since he refused to sit on the loveseat alone (it was _their_ space, not Blaine's), he felt very lost. He ended up standing at the back wall where he could sneak looks at Kurt from the corner of his eyes.

He hadn't been able to warn the other boy about 'Animal' being cut but it appeared someone else had because when the announcement was made, Kurt just stared at his knees as if he hadn't heard (Blaine's internal Wevid decided to speak up just then, informing him that this had nothing to do with 'Animal, that Kurt had been spending a lot of Warbler meetings staring at his knees lately and Blaine simply hadn't noticed. Blaine quickly told them to shut up).

Lying in his bed, Blaine felt absolutely sick and his head hurt and he wanted to blame it on a lack of coffee (he had developed quite the addiction over the past couple of months) since he had come here straight after Warblers practice instead of going to the Lima Bean. But he knew it wasn't caffeine withdrawal he was suffering from.

He wondered if Kurt was lying in his own bed with a similar ache. Was it wrong to hope so? To hope that this separation was hitting Kurt as hard as it hit Blaine? He just wanted the assurance that he still meant as much to Kurt as Kurt meant to him.

Regardless, Blaine doesn't know what to do to ease either of their pains.

He's really only sure of one thing right now.

David Thompson was the spawn of Satan.

Four classes. They only had four classes together. How had David made this day stretch into a lifetime and a half in just _four freaking classes_?

Blaine released a harsh sigh, releasing his death grip on the pillow but not bothering to remove it from his face.

He knew exactly how.

Three words.

Kurt. Elizabeth. Hummel.

That was why Blaine had almost melted his lab table. Twice.

David had decided that Chemistry class was an excellent time in life to become clumsy. Blaine had lost count of the number of times David had dropped his pencil or accidentally nudged a (thankfully) non-breakable component of the experiment onto the floor. And yet, despite dropping everything he touched, David's hands were always full. This left it up to his lab partner to constantly bend over to retrieve the fallen objects: a lab partner by the name of Kurt. A lab partner whose table happened to be directly in front of Blaine's.

Blaine really should tell David that he did not need any help realizing how fantastic Dalton slacks looked when Kurt bent over like that.

Nor was he interested in David's theory that you could say anything in French and make it sound dirty. Further more, he did not wish to aid in testing this theory by listening to Kurt string together random words and see if they _all_ made Blaine tremble like that (Blaine's pretty sure he doesn't want to know what "Légumes frits" means because there is no way Kurt's accent is that good. That… that just wouldn't be fair).

No, David. Blaine does not want to partake in a dramatic reading with Kurt. Especially not over this particularly steamy bit of their novel from English class (where was the boring text that put teenagers to sleep? What Blaine wouldn't give for some outdated literature by a dead white Englishmen. Stupid teachers. Stop trying to make this relatable.)

Also, Blaine would like to make something very clear to his fellow classmates.

Stop. Helping. David.

He's doing quite well on his own (if his goal is to drive Blaine to the brink of his very sanity, he is doing a _damn good job_). But apparently their Home Economics class, which consisted of all Warblers (Wes's idea to strengthen their team morale), disagreed.

If Blaine heard the phrase "here Kurt, taste this" one more time, he was going to put someone's (possibly his own) head through a wall.

Then came Warbler's practice. Blaine shuddered thinking about it.

The small part of his brain that could be objective about this whole thing had to admit that David was quite possibly a physics genius (the rest of him that was looking for any reason to hate a certain Mr. Thompson decided to harp on the fact that the boy seemed to love clichés).

David had somehow choreographed a routine that spun out of control and had Warblers crashing into each other, ending in a giant pile on the floor, a grumbling tangle of limbs.

Blaine ended up trapped beneath Wes, Thad, and Jeff.

Sufficiently pinned by the weight of three fellow Warblers, Blaine could hardly even shift his weight, let alone move. The situation was incredibly uncomfortable and awkward in its own right. But David's torture didn't end there, considering the position Blaine had landed in.

What was this position, you ask?

On top of Kurt, of course.

With, literally, _thismuch_ space between them.

There was no way this was an accident. Only David could craft this moment.

Because of David (who had been cackling like a super villain through the whole ordeal), Blaine spent the better part of five minutes trying to ignore Kurt's hands bracing his shoulders or the fact that every bit of the countertenor from the collarbone down was pressed tightly against Blaine.

This was no easy task, especially when he could feel Kurt's chest rise and fall at a stuttering pace, his warm breath wafting over Blaine's face, breath that still smelled of that cherry candy (and that brought back a whole host of thoughts Blaine really could not afford right now), and Kurt was shifting underneath him, each miniscule movement meaning some part of the porcelain boy pushed against Blaine, a knee nudging his thigh, a calf sliding along his own, a taut stomach rising to meet Blaine's tummy (which was fluttering in a pleasantly uncomfortable way) when Kurt's back arched slightly as the boy tried to find a more comfortable way to lay on the floor at the bottom of that nightmare of a dog pile and his fingers tightening around Blaine's shoulders as he does this and after Kurt's back was flat again, Blaine was drawn into those bright eyes which were a vibrant jade green right then, the lights from above shining in them, shimmering and Blaine felt like he was watching a thousand thoughts flying through the boy's mind and he would have given anything to catch just one.

Blaine remembered learning forward, trying to discern just what those eyes were trying to tell him, his nose brushing against Kurt's just as…

Just as Thad finally got himself into an upright position.

Blaine shot to his feet, gulping down lung-fulls of air, only then aware that he hadn't been breathing properly.

Swallowing thickly, pulling himself together, Blaine turned to offer Kurt a hand only to find the countertenor already up and dusting himself off, determinedly avoiding eye contact with Blaine.

With everyone sore and grumbling, the council dismissed the group before anyone else could be hurt. The Warblers (minus the council) limped out of practice, over-exaggerating the pain in their movements so as to prolong their exit and give them a longer amount of time to glare at David.

Kurt shot out of practice like the room was on fire.

And that brings us back to Blaine in his dorm room, face buried in his pillow, trying to turn it into a time machine so that it could take him to before today, before this past weekend, before 'Animal', before things started getting so difficult between him and Kurt, to just _before_ because he is really sick of dealing with _after_.

His plans to invent time travel were interrupted by a familiar buzzing coming from his pocket (it was pretty indicative of how low he was feeling when he didn't even consider hoping that it was Kurt), so Blaine yanked his phone free with a frustrated groan.

_Hey Blainers! – David_

Blaine could not begin to describe how not in the mood he was for this conversation.

_What? – B_

And Blaine growls angrily as he reads the response he gets because he can _hear_ David's smug chuckle.

_Now, now Blainey. There's no need to be snippy. ;) – David_

_What do you want David? – B_

_Hmph. Someone's not very friendly today. I just wanted to ask you something. – David_

Blaine's fingers were already savagely typing out a demand for David to just spit it out already when he gets a second text.

_I'll be quick. I'm sure you're busy. After all, that hair doesn't gel itself. ;) But, do you have, say… 4 Minutes? – David_

Blaine's blood runs cold.

No… There's no way.

_What's this all about? – B_

_I was just thinking about how lucky us straight boys are that Kurt's gay. If he batted for the other team, there'd be no Single Ladies left for the rest of us. Would there? ;) – David_

Oh god, no.

_What are you playing at David! – B_

And goddamn it, he can still hear that smug bastard laughing.

_Easy there Blaine, don't Push It. – David_

Blaine types out two threats to David's life, one plea for mercy, and a few expletives before finally settling on a question.

_How? – B_

_Computers come with this amazing little button called "Clear Browser History". For future reference, you might want to make liberal use of this handy little invention. – David_

Damn him. Damn him to the fiery pits of hell where carnivorous dogs will tear him limb from limb and eat his innards for the rest of eternity while he is forced to listen to listen to a professor on mathematics who is simultaneously monotonous and has the vocal pitch of nails on a chalkboard!

_Blaine? You still there? Or did Kurt's ass in that unitard fully melt your brain? – David_

_Name your price. – B_

_* gasp * Blaine, you wound me! Don't you trust me as your friend to keep your little secret? – David_

_I wouldn't trust you to watch my goldfish for a week. – B_

_That hurts Blaine. That. Really. Hurts. – David_

_Stop beating around the bush. – B_

For once, David listened.

_Watch one more video. – David_

Blaine's jaw dropped, along with his phone, which bounced on the mattress, the message still shining up at Blaine, letting him know that he hadn't imagined it.

_WHAT? ? ? ! ! !– B_

_Just one more. I e-mailed you the link. Please? – David_

Blaine stared hard at his phone. With that last word, something had shifted in this conversation and he could feel his anger dissipating. Suddenly, this had become serious.

_What's so important about this video, David? – B_

_Just watch it Blaine. If I know your relationship with Kurt like I think I do, you'll see it too. Please watch it? It's what's best for Kurt. – David_

Blaine's fingers hesitate over the keyboard on his phone, wanting to explain to David that watching videos in order to do what's best for Kurt often backfired. He wants to ask what exactly it is about this video that's so important. He wants to ask but doesn't.

David had been staring at Kurt that morning, looking pensive and worried. Was something wrong with Kurt? Something that David saw but that Blaine was overlooking? What wasn't he seeing? What was it that had David so scared?

That's what determines Blaine's next course of action. Just as easily as he could hear David's teasing snickers, he can now hear this new tone in the text.

David's scared.

David's scared for Kurt.

David's scared for Kurt and he's turning to Blaine.

_I'll take a look at it. – B_

Blaine discards his phone on the bed and heads for his laptop at the desk, powering it up and opening his e-mail. Sure enough, there was a new message from David containing a link.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine clicks it before he can loose his nerve.

**Pink Houses – John Mellencamp  
><strong>**Featuring: Kurt Hummel**

Blaine stared at the title for a good five minutes, waiting for it to somehow make sense.

Kurt.

Doing Mellencamp.

Kurt Hummel?

_Mellencamp_?

With a sickening sense of déjà vu, Blaine read the video's description.

**Mr. Schuester's assignment this week was to sing a song that fit your voice. Kurt sang this.  
><strong>…  
><strong>We don't get it either.<strong>

Well, that didn't clear up anything (honestly, these descriptions had started off being so helpful). With a heavy sigh, trying to steel himself for whatever he was about to see (there's no way this was another way for David to torment him, right? _Right_?), and pressed play.

_**In the New Directions choir room, Kurt entered.**_

Blaine immediately hit the pause button, staring bug eyed at Kurt.

Dear god, what was he wearing?

Blaine's jaw worked fruitlessly as he searched for words but none could do his shock justice.

_**Kurt stood in front of the piano, facing the camera, waiting as Mr. Schuester moved off-screen. He stood for a moment, center shot, dressed in a nondescript gray sweatshirt and a puffy vest, baggy brown corduroys hanging low on his hips but doing nothing to accentuate them. On top of his head, ruining the chance for any style to his chestnut hair was a trucker hat. He turned towards the band, which looked uncomfortable with this stranger asking them to play.  
><strong>_"**Gentlemen."  
><strong>_**Kurt's voice was rough, low, and so, so forced.**_

There was almost something cute about Kurt's clothes in the way that it was akin to a four-year-old slipping on his daddy's shoes and trying to walk around in them. It certainly looked like he had raided Burt's closet for this outfit. The hat certainly didn't belong to Kurt.

But, "almost" was the key word here.

In all honesty, this ensemble pissed Blaine off.

"**There's a black man  
><strong>**With a black hat  
><strong>**Living in a black neighborhood"**

This wasn't Kurt. None of it.

"**He's got an interstate  
><strong>**Running through his front yard  
><strong>**You know he thinks that he's  
><strong>**Got it so good"**

What was with that voice?

It wasn't the fact that it was so low. Kurt had a great range and could in fact go deeper if he so chose.

But it wasn't Kurt's real voice. He was forcing it. Blaine could see the effort, could see the pale boy concentrating on keeping his voice at that register. This is straining and singing has always been so natural to Kurt before this. He shouldn't have to try this hard.

"**And there's a woman  
><strong>**In the kitchen  
><strong>**Cleaning up the evening slop  
><strong>**And he looks at her and says  
><strong>**Hey darling  
><strong>**I can remember when you could  
><strong>**Stop a clock"**

Kurt didn't believe a word he was saying. It didn't mean a thing to him. He was singing someone else's song.

"**Oh  
><strong>**But ain't that America  
><strong>**For you and me  
><strong>**Ain't that America  
><strong>**Something to see  
><strong>**Ain't that America  
><strong>**Home of the free  
>Yeah<br>****Little pink houses  
><strong>**For you and me"**

Blaine wasn't sure how much more of this he could stomach.

It was just so… _wrong_.

_**Kurt's face was frozen in an indifferent blank look but his eyes searched his audience, shifting from face to face, gauging their reactions, trying to find a certain one and being crushed each time he didn't find it. The unsatisfied hunger in his eyes showed that he was searching for approval.**_

Where was Kurt? The description said this video featured Kurt Hummel.

Blaine doesn't know who this guy is, but it is definitely not Kurt.

_**Kurt suddenly throws his head back, his voice lower than ever. He throws everything he has into this last bit, as if it will make the performance more believable.  
><strong>_"**Oh! Baby!  
><strong>**For you and me."  
><strong>_**Hesitant clapping sounds off-screen. It's not applause, just a knee-jerk reaction to the end of something that no one can really name as if the audience hopes their small act of normalcy will somehow restore order.**_

Blaine stares at his computer for the longest time, not even aware that it has gone black from lack of activity.

What happened? How could Kurt lose himself like that?

Because that was more than changing his persona. Blaine had just been forced to watch Kurt slowly _die_. It terrified him.

Why had David wanted him to watch that?

_If I know your relationship with Kurt like I think I do, you'll see it too._

Blaine feels lower than dirt because he sees it, but he doesn't see what it has to do with Kurt as of now.

This video was more than a year old. Whatever had made Kurt do this to himself was in the past because Kurt wasn't acting like that anymore. And, judging by all the other videos Blaine has seen of the pale boy, it was a brief moment of insecurity. There were no other performances like this one.

So what is he supposed to be seeing?

_Oblivious hobbit. This has nothing to do with 'Animal. All Kurt does nowadays is stare at the floor. He hasn't spoken up in a meeting since February. Why does this surprise you? When was the last time you heard his voice in this room? He hasn't auditioned for anything since before Christmas break. He doesn't even fight for a position in the front during the dances anymore. He doesn't fight for anything. Haven't you noticed?_

Shit.

Blaine stands, paces his room, kicks his bed and paces some more.

Oh shit!

He gets it now. And it's scaring the hell out of him.

Shit, shit, SHIT!

David sent this to Blaine because he's seeing the Kurt in that video walking around Dalton.

The Kurt Blaine knows and loves (the one they _all_ love, Blaine corrects himself) is fading away. Instead of turning into Burt, he's turning into the Dalton Academy poster boy. He's losing everything that makes him special, the makes him wonderful, that makes him amazing, that makes him _Kurt_.

He's dying.

And Blaine hasn't noticed.

Blaine, who has spent three days feeling sorry for himself about losing Kurt because the countertenor apparently means _oh so much_ to Blaine and he didn't see it.

What if David hadn't said anything? What if no one else saw it? What if Kurt stayed under the radar, just like in McKinley, and no one saw this? What if Blaine didn't notice until it was too late and Kurt, _his _Kurt, was gone?

Blaine stops abruptly and sucks in a deep breath, his jaw tightening with a decision.

The pity party is _over_. Because this isn't about him anymore. This isn't about a crumbling friendship. This isn't about singing competitions.

This is about Kurt.

He reaches for his phone and dials a number, quick and desperate while trying to convince himself that he's determined.

He's said it before and he'll say it again.

Blaine Anderson would do _anything_ for Kurt.

Phone stapled to his ear, he listens to it ring.

Blaine knows this is a stab in the dark, knows he's grasping at straws.

_Ringing_.

But this just got so much bigger than him and whatever minor problems he thought he'd been helping Kurt fix (had it really changed from learning how to be sexy to _this_?).

_Ringing_.

And it's absolutely crazy to just leap in like this considering how much trouble doing so has gotten him into recently but he can't let this go on. He has to put a stop to Kurt's suffering, no matter the cost.

_Ringing_.

He will not rest until he finds out what is hurting his best friend. And when he does, he will annihilate whatever has brought such harm to _his_ Kurt. Because that's what friends do (Shut _up_ Wevid!). He'll do whatever it takes.

_Click_.

"Um… Hello?"

Which means, as unlikely as it is that this call will be helpful, he has to try.

"Finn?"

* * *

><p><em>*sings*<br>"Cliff  
><em>_Hanger  
><em>_Hanging from a cliff  
><em>_And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger!"_

_Any reviewers want to toss him a rope?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Cliff Hanger would like to send his sincerest thanks to ALEX RIDE for sending Stripes to his rescue. With the aid of XXLITTLE ROSE ANGELXX's penguin army, he was returned home, safe and sound. He bears this chapter as a thank you to all those who helped in the efforts to rescue him from a terrible fate of hanging on that cliff forever._

_Siriusly guys. You're love and reviews make my world go round._

_Once again, special thanks to my beautiful Twin MUSICALSARELIFE who gave me great advice in the pacing for this chapter and the one previous (don't blame her for the cliffhanger. That was all me). She is all too fabulous and I suggest you all go read her beautiful stories after you're done here. Or you can go see her first. It's not like I'm going anywhere. ;)_

_Alright, enough rambling. I've let you all suffer long enough._

DISCLAIMER: _Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)_

* * *

><p>Blaine froze, his adrenaline fading fast as he wonders if this was such a good idea.<p>

"Dude? You still there?"

Somehow, Blaine forces his voice out.

"Finn? It's Blaine."

Silence.

"Uh… who?"

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson?" He waits a moment for recognition but none comes. "Kurt's friend?"

"Kurt?" The boy repeats, clinging to the familiar name.

Blaine lets out a small sigh of relief.

Houston, we have contact.

Blaine waits a moment because suddenly there's a great deal of noise on Finn's end. People are all talking at once and Finn is trying to shush them (rather unsuccessfully) before talking (yelling to be heard over the noise) to Blaine again.

"You're Kurt's friend? Is he ok?" Blaine tries to reassure the other boy that Kurt is fine but Finn has begun working himself into a quick panic. "What happened? Is he at the hospital? You need to call Burt! Tell Kurt I'm on my way! What hospital are you at? Oh crap, is he even awake? Did he pass out? Did someone hurt him? What happened to my brother!"

"FINN!" Blaine yells, finally silencing the quarterback. "Kurt's fine. He's not hurt. I was just calling to ask you something."

"Oh." Finn's voice is quiet, obviously embarrassed about his freak out. He mutters a quick "Kurt's fine" to someone else on his end before returning his attention to Blaine. "Well, if he's ok, then what's up?"

Blaine worries his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to figure out how to word this. Something like, "I was trying to help your brother be sexy so I stalked him on YouTube and I have a few questions about one of his performances" probably wouldn't go over very well.

"Kurt was having a little trouble with a Warbler's number." This seemed like a safe place to start.

"Dude… what?" Finn sounds more confused than ever (and, looking back over this short conversation, that is saying something).

Blaine bites back any noise of annoyance he is tempted to make. "Kurt was…"

"No dude. I heard you. It's just… like, Kurt's _never_ uncomfortable when he sings. We've done really crazy stuff over here," Blaine is well aware, thanks Finn. "But when the rest of us were being awkward, Kurt would just kinda waltz in and do it. Like, he didn't even have to try."

Blaine frowns at that. 'Animal' is the worst to date, but Kurt has always had some sort of problem with the Warblers. It's not for a lack of talent or effort. But being a Warbler means being able to fit seamlessly into one another and form a single unit. Kurt doesn't quite fit, yet. He didn't just walk in and feel at home.

To hear how easy it was for Kurt at McKinley is jarring, to say the least.

There's murmuring again on Finn's end as people (Blaine hazards a guess that Finn is with the New Directions) surrounding the quarterback discuss this new information.

"What kind of number are you doing?" That's a female voice and it confirms Blaine's suspicions about the other listeners around Finn. He thinks the voice belongs to Tina but it's difficult to say because, although he can easily pick out their faces, voices over the phone are harder to fit to a name.

It doesn't matter as Finn is back on with a "Hey! You can't just take my phone!" The tall boy grumbles a bit as protests are heard in the background before he reiterates the question.

"'Animal' by Neon Trees." Blaine doesn't bother telling them that the number is no longer being considered because that could open a whole new can of worms and this conversation is already proving more difficult than he'd originally anticipated.

Finn echoes Blaine's answer, apparently deciding that this was no longer a one on one talk and was instead a conference meeting. There are more murmurs and the faintest hints of music that sounds like someone's playing it on their phone for everyone to hear.

"What's the problem?" Finn asks.

Blaine really wants to avoid this part of the story. The journey from teaching Kurt to be sexy to uncovering what is making Kurt feel like he can't be himself is much too long to cover in one phone call (especially considering how easy it was to get sidetracked when conferring with New Directions). It also occurs to him that maybe discussing 'Animal' wasn't really crucial to his initial question (it also strikes him as odd that the rival glee club is so willing to help Blaine better the Warblers performance since it would hurt their chances of winning Regionals. These people must really love Kurt).

"No, that's not why I called. That's already been taken care of. There's a new problem."

"O…kay?" Finn sounds really lost now and Blaine feels bad for being confusing but he didn't really plan this out ahead of time (damn 20/20 hindsight) and he's racking his brain for the right phraseology for this rather delicate situation.

"Has Kurt ever performed something… out of character?"

"Huh?"

Blaine can't bite back the groan here. Couldn't Kurt have a brother who could understand subtlety? (_Couldn't you have planned this little questionnaire better?_ No one asked you, Wevid)

"What I mean is, can you think of anything that would make Kurt sing something he wouldn't normally?"

Finn laughs here (it's almost reminiscent of David's crack up in the common room that morning and it does nothing to endear the quarterback to Blaine).

"Dude, you don't know Kurt _at all_!" That sets Blaine's teeth on edge and he is sorely tempted to hurl his phone against the wall in anger. "Trust me, man. There's _nothing_ that could make Kurt Hummel do something _Kurt_ didn't want to do."

Blaine's irritation at being told he doesn't know his best friend (who the hell is _Finn Hudson_ to say that he doesn't know Kurt?) means, in forming his response, Blaine is more focused on proving a point rather than being vague.

"I doubt very much that 'Pink Houses' was Kurt's idea."

The dead silence on the other end goes on long enough for Blaine to realize what he's just said.

He should just hang up now but he stays on (_Blaine, your masochism is showing_. So not the time, Wevid).

"How do you know about that?"

Blaine knows that he can't cover this up. Maybe being direct will be more helpful. It is, after all, the one tactic he hasn't tried yet in this whole mess.

"I saw the video on YouTube."

"YouTube? Wait! What video!"

There is an uproar on Finn's end.

Apparently Rachel never told the rest of the glee club about the channel.

Oops.

The yelling fades to a furious grumbling but Blaine is able to hear Finn once again.

"How'd you find that video, dude?"

"I was looking up videos to help Kurt with his stage presence."

"What's wrong with Kurt's stage present!" At any other time, Blaine would find Finn's indignation on his brother's behalf sweet, especially since (considering his mispronunciation) Finn had no idea what "stage presence" meant but was convinced that whatever it was, Kurt was good at it.

As such, Blaine kept his tone soft, hoping it would soothe the protective anger.

"He was having problems since the performance required us to be a little… provocative." Blaine hoped that the multi-syllabic word would keep Finn from going into another rage (the boy's anger seemed easily sparked when it came to Kurt) and Blaine rushed the rest of his explanation out, hoping that Finn would ignore the first sentence. "I found the McKinley channel and just wanted to give Kurt a point of reference."

Blaine waited on tenterhooks while Finn conferred with the club.

He held his breath when he heard Finn ask what "provocation" meant. Blaine crossed his fingers (yes, literally. Yes, he was that desperate) hoping that Finn's inability to pronounce words correctly would be enough to deter the more well read members of New Directions.

His prayers went unanswered.

"You're looking up sexy videos of Kurt? Dude, that is seriously creepy!"

Blaine went to explain (how exactly he was going to make this better, he had no idea) when there was that fumbling sound again as someone took Finn's phone. Blaine held his breath, running through a mental list of the New Directions members, trying to think of who would be less scarring.

"The hell man! What do you think you're doing perving on my boy!"

Noah Puckerman was not Blaine's first choice. And he quickly squashes the anger at Puck (_his_ boy? Who said he got any claim to Kurt?) because he really had bigger things to worry about.

A chorus of male voices seemed to echo Puck's anger, though Blaine couldn't make out any of the words.

Another moment of fumbling and his ear was assaulted with an angry Latina voice. Santana. The female Puck who carried switchblades in her hair (according to Kurt and now Blaine's really hoping that was just an exaggeration).

"Prep boy, you's best wash out your eyes and take another look at Hummel. Cause my baby gay is all kinds of hot. Maybe you ain't seen nothing but the schoolboy outfit, but I've seen Porcelain in bondage pants and I've got two words for you. Me gusta."

Blaine really hates his brain for providing him with the mental image. Because it's really hard to think with that idea in his head.

Bondage pants? Blaine gusta too (go _away_ weird thoughts).

"I've only seen pictures, a lot since he's practically the only thing these losers talk about, but I would totally tap that. If Hummel were into the ladies, he would get Zizesed!"

Who the hell was that? She sounded terrifying (Zizesed? Was that some violent form of tag?).

"Kurt has no trouble being sexy." Yet another voice spoke up. Blaine doubted he was ever going to get a word in edgewise again. "I danced with him during our 'Hair' number. I'm a girl, he's gay, and I was _pregnant_. And still, to be blunt, grinding on Kurt is a total turn on."

There seemed to be a shocked silence on the New Directions end as well as Blaine's.

The respite did not last however. Tina took the phone next.

"Seriously, how can you not think Kurt is sexy? Now that he's at Dalton, gay guys should be throwing themselves at him."

Blaine felt that familiar clenching in his stomach as he once again imagined Kurt with a faceless stranger. Only this time, it was someone in another Dalton uniform, someone who would be just as inexperienced and unsure as Kurt, someone who would learn with him, someone who wanted Kurt to be the first, who wanted to be Kurt's first. But Blaine should want that kind of person for Kurt, be happy when he shows up in Kurt's life or when Blaine sees them together. There was no reason to feel sick. Was there?

"Just look at the guy Kurt brought to the football game. When they were leaving, he was totally checking Kurt out."

"I WAS NOT!"

"Wha- you? Blaine?"

Apparently Finn had not been clear with the club about who he was talking to because Tina was now explaining it to the rest of New Directions that it was indeed Blaine Anderson who was on the phone. Blaine wasn't sure if he should be offended that the majority of the club knew him as rich or short since neither were really true (his parents were well off but not obscenely so and 5'9'' was a perfectly average height of a boy his age, thank you very much). He decides not to even think about the number of members that classify him as Kurt's boyfriend (boy toy according to Puck and Santana) and quickly tells the elation swelling in his chest at the thought that it is inappropriate and to please go away. And it should take the dejection that appeared when he heard someone clarify that he and Kurt were "just friends" with it (he's used that term when other people made the same romantic assumptions about him and Kurt but now? Those words irk him for some reason). He doesn't have time to think about that right now.

There is a sudden exclamation that can only signal an epiphany and Kurt's giant of a brother is back on the phone.

"Wait! You're _that_ Blaine?"

Finn knows more than one? (Blaine was smart enough to not ask this out loud. But… seriously?)

"Dude!" Blaine's a little scared now because Finn sounds _murderous_. "You're a dick!"

"Excuse me!" He so did not see that coming.

"You heard me!" Finn snarls. "You've been yanking Kurt around since he met you!"

Blaine was shaking his head, only barely conscious of the fact that it did him no good since he was alone in his room. "No, I…"

"SHUT UP!" This is a rage Blaine would have never guessed Finn was capable of. He promptly closed his mouth, deciding to let the 6'3'' mountain of anger vent. "You totally led Kurt on! You guys were always going out on dates and you flirted with him, like, every second you two were together! You sang the date rape song to him!"

Blaine's jaw came unhinged at that. "I _what_!"

"That Christmas song about date rape. The one where the girl's trying to leave but the guy won't let her and she talks about him putting something in her drink…" Someone must have supplied Finn with the name of the song because he suddenly yells "Yeah! That one!" but he doesn't explain any further to Blaine.

It's not necessary though. Blaine gets it. He's talking about 'Baby It's Cold Outside' (while Blaine understands how people could see something malicious in those lyrics, he'd always thought it had a sort of old time 1940's charm to it. But that was neither here nor there).

"Kurt was helping me practice." He tried to reason.

"You don't sing that song to someone who's in love with you, douche bag!"

"Kurt's not… He doesn't…" Why are these words so hard to say all of a sudden? He's faced this accusation before. It shouldn't be this hard to deny.

"There's no way you're that stupid. Even _I_ can see that he loves you. He's always got that dopey smile when you're around and he's got your picture and whenever he's home it's always "Blaine this" and "Blaine that"… OW! What?"

There's an angry "shut up Finn!" but Blaine's not really listening to that.

Is it true? Does Kurt have feelings for him? Does Kurt really smile when he walks into a room (yes, remember that smile that's reserved for the time they spend together without anyone else)? Does Kurt really talk about him all the time (that's actually kind of a relief because Wes had made it clear when Kurt first transferred that Blaine had to spend more time over at Kurt's dorm because Wes was tired of hearing about the countertenor)? Why hadn't Kurt ever said anything? Surely if his feelings for Blaine were that serious, he would have done something. Surely Blaine would have noticed.

"Whatever…" Finn grumbled at whomever had hit him. "You can't sing that song to someone and not have them think you want in their pants. So you totally strung Kurt along."

"But, I…" Blaine's brain still isn't firing on all cylinders right now but he knows that his intention was never to harm Kurt and he still can't understand how he misled the other boy.

"You sang to someone else on Valentine's Day."

Blaine grimaces. That had been a horrible mistake and he regrets it more everyday.

"Did you know Kurt thought you were singing to him?" Finn's voice is a little softer, like he might consider forgiving Blaine if he had been merely ignorant rather than insensitive.

Blaine swallows thickly, his mouth and throat suddenly dry.

"Y-yes."

"Really?" Finn's voice is like steel now and it sends a shiver down Blaine's spine.

"He told me afterwards."

"And what did you say?" Blaine would give anything for Finn to start yelling again. This calm tone is so, so much worse.

"I-I told him the truth. I told him that I don't know what I'm doing. I've never been anyone's boyfriend. I-I told him that I really care about him."

"You care about him?" Finn doesn't sound like he believes Blaine and that hurts a lot more that Blaine would have expected (what hurts even worse is that Blaine is starting to doubt it himself).

"I do. He's my best friend. Kurt… he means so much to me and…"

"And after you told him you cared, you went out with Rachel?"

New Directions is yelling again but this time, it sounds like their focus is on someone other than Blaine. And now he feels truly awful because he's already gotten her in trouble once during this call and Rachel is actually there to face the wrath of this group on her own. It had been his decision as much as Rachel's and it's not fair for her to face this punishment alone.

The next voice to come through his phone makes it all too clear that Rachel neither wants nor needs his sympathy.

"Blaine Warbler?"

"Hello Rachel."

"Is this true?" Rachel always was one to get straight to the point.

"Which part?" Blaine doesn't want any of it to be true but has to wonder what exactly has upset Rachel specifically.

"The part where you knew about Kurt's feelings before you went out with me. Kurt told you he thought you were interested in him?"

Blaine replays that conversation in his mind. In the moment, he thought he was just being told that he was being too flirty and needed to be clearer about the line between friends and _more_. He thought Kurt was just telling him that he was confusing the other boy. Now, he's not so sure.

"Kurt said he thought I was singing to him."

"And you still went out with me? Kurt said that he wanted to be the one you were singing to on Valentine's Day. Kurt _told_ you that he had feelings for you and you dated me anyway?"

Blaine feels like he might actually be sick (It's not true. That wasn't what had happened. He didn't hurt Kurt like that. He didn't. He couldn't).

"Yes."

Rachel gasps and Blaine can see her all too clearly, hand clasped over her mouth and tears in her brown eyes.

"Blaine Warbler, I feel sorry for you." She doesn't sound too sorry but Blaine doesn't interrupt her. "Very soon, Kurt will leave for New York and will be headlining on Broadway alongside me and we will be the brightest stars. Impeccable talent and steadfast determination are just two of the things Kurt and I have in common. Apparently we also make the mistake of falling for the wrong men. But mark my words Blaine. In the end, Kurt will outgrow you. He will find someone who appreciates him and who will help him shine rather than keeping him down. And you? You'll be stuck singing in theme parks thinking about the time you could have had Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. Kurt won't ever get to be with you because you're not strong enough for someone like him."

Blaine wonders if Rachel knows how badly that stung.

What hurts the most is the thought of being left behind while Kurt heads out into the world. He always knew Kurt would go to New York. It's where he belongs. Blaine would never want to take Kurt anywhere else. There's no way Rachel could know this (_Kurt_ doesn't know this. Blaine's never really found the right time to bring it up) but, he'd always thought of them going together.

They'd have a tiny apartment that would be too small for two people but Kurt and Blaine make it work because they're such good friends. Kurt gets parts on Broadway of course and Blaine goes into the music industry (song writing or producing or singing, he's not picky) and Kurt would be a famous star, finally getting the recognition he deserves and winning awards and always taking Blaine as his date to cast parties and always being Blaine's date to work functions because there's no way Blaine could survive the stuffiness of business parties without Kurt at his side. Kurt would always insist on cooking and would never let Blaine in the kitchen (you blow up _one_ microwave with _one_ burrito and suddenly no one trusts you) and Blaine would grumble but wouldn't mind really and he'll do laundry (and feel incredibly privileged to be trusted to even touch Kurt's clothes) and keep the apartment clean to make up for it and they'd have dinner every night and watch TV and look out the window at the city, _their _city. And in front of the TV will be a loveseat like the one at Dalton because that will always be _their_ place. It won't be as fancy as the Dalton one of course because they'll need to live on a budget at first but so many memories will be built on it that, even when they have the money for finer things, they'll never have the heart to replace it. Because that's where they sit every night and sometimes fall asleep, cuddled up next to each other (it's happened at Dalton and always leaves Blaine waking up feeling warm and safe) and that's how it will always be. Because that's how it always has been. Kurt and Blaine. The way it _should_ be.

Sure, it was probably foolish to plan his future with a friend he hasn't even known for a year. But this idea had planted itself in Blaine's mind and it just seemed so right, like it was the only possible outcome. It was certainly the only one he wanted. He found himself visiting it frequently, comforted by its eventuality. Rachel has ripped that right out from under his feet and now Blaine looks at his future and sees nothing and feels absolutely shaken.

What's he supposed to do without Kurt?

There's a lot of yelling now and several people are grabbing for the phone all at once and Blaine wonders who's going to tell him he's garbage next (can't they just hang up now and let him deal with the bomb Rachel has just dropped?).

The innocent voice that comes through the speaker certainly throws Blaine for a loop.

"Birdy?"

"Blaine." He corrects mindlessly.

"Birdy Blaine? You tweet with Kurtsie, right?"

Blaine actually takes his phone away from his ear to stare at it in disbelief, wondering if there's something wrong with it and that's why he can't understand the girl on the other end.

"I'm in the Warblers with Kurt." He thinks that's what she was asking?

"You're not trying to hurt Kurtsie, right Birdy?"

Blaine shakes his head furiously, once again forgetting that no one could see him. "No! I would never hurt Kurt! I was just trying to track down…"

"Track?" The girl interrupted. "Like hunting?"

Blaine now recognizes who this girl is. This is Brittany Pierce. Kurt's told Blaine enough stories about her for him to recognize her unique way of speaking.

And Blaine knows that, with this answer, he has a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. Maybe if he does, he can finally do right by Kurt and figure out what has been hurting him at Dalton (man this conversation got so off-track so fast). He just has to choose the right one.

Blaine bites the inside of his cheek, answering, hoping this will turn everything around, wondering if it should really feel like there is so much at stake (then he thinks of that old worn loveseat in a tiny New York apartment and decides that, yes, it should).

"Yes. Like hunting."

He chose wrong.

Brittany is silent for a moment and then begins _sobbing_. And through her tears, she begins accusing Blaine of such heinous crimes as both animal and child abuse (at least, that's what he thinks she's saying. What else is he supposed to think when she accuses him of hurting a dolphin and tells him he shouldn't be allowed to hold a baby's hand?).

Blaine is then effectively passed to each member of New Directions and by the end he feels as though he's been thoroughly beaten up by each individual.

Santana goes off on a spiel in Spanish and Blaine is quite thankful he takes French. Sometimes it's better to remain ignorant and he's positive that he'd rather not know just what the Latina is threatening to do to him.

Artie tells him not to underestimate a boy in a wheelchair. After managing to get onto the football team in that chair, taking Blaine down will be a piece of cake.

Rachel once again promises him a life of regret and disappointment, although this time, she attacks his talent (or rather lack there of) more than anything else. That hurts less but is still a bit frightening.

Quinn Fabray tells him that Sue Sylvester has a soft spot for Kurt and that he will wake up in Siberia buck-naked if he so much as sneezes on Kurt (and Blaine has been sucked into the weird universe of McKinley because he believes her).

Did Tina just threaten him with her vampire coven? Those aren't real. Are they? Blaine considers keeping garlic on his person just in case (he really doesn't know what to believe anymore).

And now Blaine was just threatened with the wrath of the Asian Community. Someone in New Directions has that kind of power? And Blaine's half-Filipino so how has he not heard of this?

Blaine tries again and again to tell the glee club that he has no malicious agenda in regards to Kurt. That he would never, _ever_ do something to purposefully hurt the other boy. That he wants to be on their side, issuing threats to anyone who _would_ harm the countertenor.

Only one person bothers asking him of his intentions rather than accusing him.

"Listen up punk."

Puck again. Blaine wonders if it would have been better to just have the boy threaten his life and be done with it.

"Are you fucking with Kurt?"

"What!" Blaine really hopes that Puck is just using the expletive to make himself sound more intimidating, that he just wants to know if Blaine is playing mind games with the pale boy.

With his next statement, Puck makes himself abundantly clear.

"Are. You. _Fucking_. With. Kurt? In any sense of the word."

"_No_!" Blaine blames his voice raising an octave (or two) on the ridiculousness of the question. Sure, Kurt got his attention during those videos but he'd never considered _that _(Shut up Wevid! Blaine is not in denial. He's not!)

"Well, then maybe you should back the hell off! Cause you don't sound like the kind of friend Kurt needs right now."

Puck might as well have driven over to Dalton, stormed up to Windsor hall, and punched Blaine in the stomach and then kicked him repeatedly. In fact, that might have hurt less.

"And if I hear my boy is unhappy and you're behind it, not even that fancy castle you spoiled brats call a school will protect you!"

Someone yanks the phone away from Puck, yelling at him about probation.

"Puck can't do anything to you without going back to Juvie." A new voice tells Blaine.

Puck yells something about it being worth it if it means protecting his boy.

"The point is Puck's got a record. I just want you to know that I don't have that problem. I don't have a history and everyone thinks I'm a dumb blonde." That makes this Sam Evans. Blaine remembers Kurt talking about the boy's obviously dyed hair and general good nature. Somehow, Blaine doubts the validity of that second fact. "I don't know Kurt that well but he was nice to me when I was the new kid. That makes him a friend in my book. And I stick up for my friends. So you better watch it. I took on Karofsky so you should damn well believe I'd take you on."

Blaine's sure there are other voices insulting him but he's gone numb from Sam's last words.

Karofsky? Blaine's comparable to him now? Kurt's friends now see him the same way they see the monster that harassed Kurt, tortured the pale boy, that threatened to kill Kurt? Has Blaine sunk that low?

Does Kurt see him that way?

Blaine realizes that he's shaking when his phone suddenly hits the floor because his trembling fingers couldn't hold it anymore.

He pulls it back to his ear (with great difficulty) in time to hear the club hushing themselves because some authority figure has walked into the room. Finn gives a final warning and then hangs up without waiting for a rebuttal.

"You stay away from my brother. If Kurt comes home crying anymore, me and the guys and even the girls probably, are gonna take it out on you. I want my brother happy and that's not gonna happen if he keeps getting his heart broken. Puck's right. You don't sound like you're good for Kurt."

_Click._

Blaine lowers his phone and sits it on his bedside table before sitting himself on his bed, back against the headrest. He's not shaking anymore.

That's how Wes finds him when he comes up from the cafeteria that evening. He's about to ask why the other boy had missed dinner (ask if he was with Kurt because the countertenor had been absent also) but then he takes in his roommate sitting on the bed, still in partial uniform, knees against his chest and arms around them, staring stone-faced at the opposite wall. He doesn't look like he's moved in hours.

Wes sets up his study materials, giving Blaine time to adjust to another presence in the room. When he's done, Blaine still hasn't moved.

He considers approaching the other boy but one look into those hazel eyes and Wes knows it's better to let him be.

The rest of the evening passes in silence and the boys sleep without acknowledging each other. When Wes's alarm goes off, Blaine is already up and dressed, shouldering his bag and heading out the door.

"Blaine?" He questions sleepily. "What are you doing up so early?"

Blaine pauses at the door, turning to look at Wes. "I'm meeting Kurt."

Wes doesn't dare to hope that those two have finally made up after whatever happened over the weekend. Blaine doesn't have the usual "I'm-off-to-meet-Kurt" light in his eyes or bounce in his step.

He's almost afraid to ask but…

"Why do you need to see Kurt?"

Blaine's eyes are suddenly far away. Something hardens in his face and, quite honestly, it scares Wes.

"Because this needs to end. One way or another."

The boy turns to leave and Wes is out of bed faster than he's ever been. He grabs Blaine's arm, turning the other boy to face him.

"You don't have to talk to him now. You both need some time. Take a step back and get some perspective."

Wes had meant what he said to David. He didn't believe that Kurt and Blaine could ever be together. Opportunity knocks but once and both Kurt and Blaine had missed the chance to open the door.

That didn't mean he was rooting for either of them to be in misery. He can't just stand by and watch Blaine toss away the one friendship that has finally brought out the real Blaine Anderson, the one his parents had tried to hide, the one bullies had tried to beat down, the one Dalton had tried to groom. He can't let Kurt loose the one thing that has been holding him together through everything he's been through.

"I have to talk to him now Wes. Things have changed."

Wes's grip tightens around Blaine's arm, begging the other boy not to ruin this. "Can't it wait?"

"No. It really can't."

"Why?"

Something changes in Blaine's eyes. They aren't hardened anymore. The hazel looks muddled and wet. Blaine takes in a deep breath and his voice sounds choked. And Wes sees the boy who knows how much Kurt means to him, who doesn't want to screw up their friendship, who is trying everything he can to keep them in each other's lives.

Wes can see how much Blaine needs this and is already letting go when Blaine speaks.

"Because I'm no good to Kurt this way."

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><p><em>Time to face the music Blaine.<em>

_Any reviewers want to guess the tune he'll be hearing?_


	9. Chapter 9

_*hiding from vengeful (but totally justified) wrath of all who asked me to update soon* Hi guys._

_Kay, first off, let me catch my breath about the fact that I logged in and discovered that I have OVER 200 REVIEWS! Holy Guacamole with hot sauce and jalapenos! Thank you so much. I love you all! _

_I do want to ease the mind of one of you._

_DUO762KAMI: Trust me, there is a much better ending to this story. I wouldn't leave you guys hanging like that. At least, not for an ending. Cliff hanger chapters, I'm obviously willing to do. But I need closure for my stories. There are still a few chapters to go for this one._

_Also, there is one thing I'd like to clear up about last chapter: Rachel Berry. Believe me, she is a total hypocrite. I think that's part of her character. However, there is some logic (at least in her head). She knew about Kurt's feelings for Blaine, yes, but she was looking at the whole Blame It On The Alcohol thing like another Finn-situation. Kurt talked to Rachel and Mercedes about an unrequited crush on Valentine's Day. I don't think he told them about confessing his feelings to Blaine. Kurt loves his girls and I'm sure he shares a lot with them but when it comes to truly personal things (like Blaine and the bullying), Kurt is a very private person. A matter that close to his heart, I feel he would keep it to himself. Especially since Blaine didn't really give him an answer. So, until he gets a clear idea of what's actually going on, he would probably keep quiet. That means that, as far as Rachel knows, Kurt "made it all up in his head". So when Blaine kissed her and agreed to a date, she accepted the fact that he was at least bisexual if not straight. She truly thought that Kurt was just crushing on another boy he'd never have a shot with. It was wrong for her to flaunt her chance to date Blaine in Kurt's face and her behavior was unforgivable, but she tore into Blaine last chapter because now she thinks Blaine knew about Kurt's crush and dated her anyway. As someone who has had boys disregard her obvious feelings (Finn dating Santana and Brittany was pretty cold), she understands the pain Kurt must have felt. She yells at Blaine because it was incredibly cruel to (sort of/kind of/half-assed) reject Kurt then turn around and date one his friends (that's not what Blaine was trying to do but that's how everyone is seeing it). She really has no right to say this since she was just as aware of Kurt's crush as she believes Blaine was, but that's Rachel for you. And New Directions called her out on it during the call, Blaine just couldn't hear due to all the yelling and being preoccupied with his own thoughts on the matter._

_This chapter is dedicated to my amazing, beautiful, talented Twin, MUSICALSARELIFE, for giving the means to discovering a crucial detail. YOU ROCK TWINSIE!_

_Ok, I think I've babbled on long enough. Come on Blaine, let's rip this band aid off (No, it won't be anything like the quick removal of a band aid. I'm far too cruel for that. Blaine just doesn't know it yet)_

_DISCLAIMER: _Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)__

* * *

><p>Dalton's cafeteria provided coffee: quality coffee at that. Just as good as any café. The Lima Bean wasn't open this early so each and every morning started here, with Kurt and Blaine doctoring their coffees and trying to wake up for the day ahead, side by side. As such, the sight of the black, industrial sized coffee maker was comforting.<p>

At least, it usually was. Right now, Blaine was just staring fixedly at it, trying to decide if having coffee would make his apology stronger or weaker. He kept an eye on the door, waiting for a signal of Kurt's presence so that (if he ever decided whether or not he wanted the infernal drink) he could get it right as the pale boy was sitting down. Cold coffee wouldn't help anyone.

But of course there was still the chance that the coffee was a bad idea. Would it look like Blaine was just trying to smooth everything over like it had never happened? But if he approached Kurt empty handed, would it look like he didn't care at all? He should really stop over thinking (it's just coffee for god's sake. Surely it can't have that many different messages) but he was drowning here and felt so lost.

In the end, the decision is made for him because Kurt doesn't show up to breakfast at all.

Blaine walks the path he takes every morning. That means he goes three doors out of his way and hovers outside of Kurt's first period classroom (he's never told the pale boy how far apart their first classes really are because Kurt would start looking guilty which is silly because Blaine's never been late and he likes walking with Kurt) but to no avail. He barely makes it to his math class because he waited so long but Kurt was either already in class or wasn't going to his lessons today.

Given the second option, Blaine is incredibly relieved when he heads into Chemistry and finds the countertenor. The feeling is doubled when he remembers that today isn't a lab day, which means the students are going to sit in their assigned desks rather than lab tables. Blaine and Kurt's assigned seats are right next to each other.

Kurt is already in his desk by the time Blaine arrives, scribbling rather furiously in a spiral that Blaine knows isn't the pale boy's science notebook. He takes his seat and drinks in the sight of Kurt right beside him, takes a moment to just soak up the simple closeness, something seemingly insignificant but what he's come to rely on to get through the day.

Damn, how he's missed this.

He just hopes that after it's all over, he can still have this.

Taking a deep breath, steeling himself, Blaine reaches out, his hand landing gently on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt jumps so violently he nearly takes out both his and Blaine's desk. Several hands of the surrounding students reach out to help steady the two tables then (after asking if the two seated boys are ok) Kurt and Blaine are left to each other.

Blaine gives as reassuring a smile as he can, trying to cover up the embarrassment for causing such a reaction in his friend (the hurt that Kurt has quickly closed the spiral and is hiding it beneath his arm, trying to protect it from Blaine's eyes). It seems a bit pointless as he is only seeing Kurt's profile, watching the other boy's pale cheeks color rather steadily while he licks at his lips in a nervous manner.

"Hey."

Kurt turns his body in his chair to face Blaine, giving a tiny (fake) smile. "Hi Blaine." He won't look Blaine in the eyes.

Blaine reaches out again slowly, giving Kurt plenty of warning (time to pull away), reaching out to take one of those soft hands in his, as he's done so many times before, wishing it felt as easy now as it had then.

"Kurt, I…"

A briefcase lands heavily on the teacher's desk snapping both boys' attention from each other.

"Alright, class." The (far too cheery) teacher addresses the class. "We've technically got about five minutes before class starts but everyone's here a little early today so I'll make you a deal. We get started right now and I'll forego any homework for tonight."

The class murmured in happy agreement and began pulling out their textbooks.

Blaine had never hated someone as much as he hated Professor Henzie. As such, he spent those precious five minutes thinking up ways to torture her (drawn and quartered was his favorite so far).

Kurt stayed bent over his desk for the entire period. Blaine glanced over repeatedly but the other boy never looked up.

Not once.

Blaine spent his class time writing about seven different notes to Kurt, none of which he passed over. He was at his wits end by the time the bell rang. He stood and found Kurt already shouldering his bag, about to lift his book and notes from his desk.

Trying to convince himself he wasn't losing hope, Blaine put his hand on top of the stack of papers, book, and spiral and pushed them back onto the desk.

"Kurt, please."

The pale boy turned his body to face Blaine at the very least.

"Yes Blaine?"

Blaine swallowed. Now or never.

"Kurt, we need to talk."

"About?" The question sounds genuine. Blaine doesn't know what to make of that.

"About this…" Blaine gestures between him and his best friend, realizing his esteemed education has failed to provide him with a term for his current predicament. "About _this_ between us."

Kurt's body doesn't move but his posture clearly says he's shutting himself off and Blaine is silently begging his friend to open up, to please let him in, that nothing can get fixed if Kurt locks him out.

"Please, Kurt. We _need_ to talk."

"I know." His voice is so soft Blaine almost misses it.

"You do?"

Kurt's face is ducked down, hiding away from Blaine. The hazel-eyed boy has to listen hard.

"I know, Blaine. I don't like _this_ anymore than you do."

Blaine feels the beginnings of a smile. "Alright. Cause Kurt, I'm…"

"But…" Kurt's face is visible again but he's resolutely looking just to the side of Blaine, never making eye contact. "Not now."

All traces of a smile leave Blaine's face. He reaches out to place a hand on Kurt's upper arm, desperate to feel connected to him somehow.

Kurt flinches and Blaine yanks his hand away like he's been burned.

In his darkest moments, Blaine will replay that second in his mind again and again. Blaine reached out to touch Kurt and he _flinched_.

"_Kurt_…" Blaine doesn't know what he's trying to say, what he wants that to mean, what he thinks it will change but he puts everything he has into saying that name.

And he thinks that maybe the other boy hears a little of it because he's biting his lip, looking so sorry, like he truly regrets pulling away. But he doesn't move any closer.

"I know we need to talk. And we will. I promise. Just…" God, when did Kurt start sounding so _broken_? "Just not now, ok?"

Blaine goes to protest until Kurt takes a full step back, away from Blaine. Then he finally sees his best friend's position.

Kurt has his arms wrapped around himself, trying to hold himself together (Blaine wants so badly to send in his application to be the one to do that and it hurts because it wasn't so long ago when the position had already been his). Kurt is keeping a constant distance between them and his eyes constantly dart away, constantly look for the door that Blaine knows is just behind him. Kurt is looking for an exit, trying to escape.

Blaine takes his hand off Kurt's books and backs away, his hands up in a way to signal that he's not going to try to stop Kurt from leaving.

The pale boy looks torn (grateful and wounded at the same time) but doesn't dwell, taking his things and hurrying past Blaine and out the door without a second glance.

Blaine leans against their desks, trying to put on his show face for the remainder of his classes. He's going to need it for the three classes he still shares with the one boy he wants to see but who apparently can't stand being in the same room with him.

He's not going to force Kurt into anything. Not again (Blaine _hates_ himself for having that statement be true). He doesn't want to talk now? That's fine.

He must not have had the same "Now or never" running through his head like Blaine had. Obviously he hadn't because he wanted neither now nor never. He wanted later.

Later was fine.

That was what Blaine told himself all day. Later was fine.

It's what he told himself in French class when Kurt didn't say a word (in any language).

He almost said it to David when Kurt opted to work by himself in English rather than in the group the three had so easily become. The Warbler councilman had shot Blaine a look and, when he only received a small shake of the head, spent most of the class staring at Kurt, looking like someone was kicking his puppy (a small bitter voice that sounds nothing like Wevid tells Blaine to just be thankful David isn't looking at him like he's the one doing the kicking). Blaine just kept reminding himself that later was fine.

It was a little harder to believe when Kurt almost set fire to the Home Economics classroom. Wes caught it in time, making good use of the fire extinguisher. Ms. Moran lets David take Kurt out of the room, accepting the excuse of taking the boy to the nurse in case he was burned. The class parts for them to leave even though they all saw Thad pull Kurt out of harm's way well before he could suffer any injury. It's incredibly hard to believe that later is fine when Kurt is shaking so badly. The only thing that keeps Blaine in place is that when the pair passes him, Kurt takes the smallest of steps towards David.

The smallest step away from Blaine.

He knows that Kurt's aware of what he did because his arms are back around his middle, trying to hold himself together again.

He knows David saw it because he looks between the two, utterly shocked. His eyes settle on Blaine and he looks _so freaking sorry_ that Blaine has to look away, bracing his hands on the counter because that's how he holds himself together.

He knows the rest of the Warblers know the significance of that small step because the classroom is completely quiet and Blaine can feel every eye on him except the pair he wants.

A hand is placed on Blaine's and he wants to cry because the overall size and the length of the fingers are just as wrong as the rough skin of the palm. Sucking in a deep breath, he meets Wes's sympathetic brown eyes with his own dry ones.

"Do you want to go after him?" The fact that Wes will cover for him and think nothing of it is understood.

Blaine shakes his head, slowly releasing his death grip on the counter, his hands aching from the intense pressure suddenly letting up. He flexes his fingers a few times, not looking anywhere else in fear of what he might see. The room is still suspiciously quiet.

"No. He's fine with David."

"Blaine…"

"Later is fine." Blaine cuts in sharply.

Wes eyes his roommate for a minute. This is rather drastic change from the Blaine that had woken up an hour and a half early just to catch a glimpse of Kurt before the first class this morning.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Blaine isn't really. But what choice does he have?

Later has to be fine because "Now or never" has already passed. Blaine might not love later but he likes it a hell of a lot better than never.

So Blaine takes up his mantra with new fervor.

He can't decide if it helps or hurts more that he doesn't see Kurt for the rest of the afternoon. Warblers practice is cancelled for today because, after having cut 'Animal', the council needs to gather and discuss new options before discussing with the rest of the club.

In the past, when Wes and David were busy with council duties, Kurt and Blaine went up to Kurt's dorm room and studied in companionable silence (for about ten minutes, then one would think of something he just _had_ to share with the other and then there was very little silence) until dinner, where they would reconvene with Wevid. Then the foursome would split, Wes and David in Blaine's room and Kurt and Blaine back into Kurt's until curfew.

Today, Blaine doesn't even try to knock at Kurt's door.

Because _later is fine_.

Collapsing boneless onto his bed for the second day in a row, Blaine rubs his eyes hard before reaching for his bag.

In searching for homework, he bypasses the subjects he usually starts with such as French (it's not the same without Kurt helping him with his accent) and English (Kurt always made even the driest literature seem exciting) and Chemistry (Blaine can't always understand his own shorthand and Kurt writes everything out in great detail). He pulls out his math spiral. Blaine flips open to the latest page and prepares to submerge himself into the world of numbers.

Blaine stares at the page, waiting for it to change into those numbers. But, after about two minutes of staring, he realizes something.

This isn't his math spiral.

This isn't his spiral period.

Rather than equations and theorems, Blaine finds himself staring at lyrics and musical notes, some scratched out, some with arrows moving them to a different place and some sort of shorthand that he assumes is labeling different ranges that will sing different parts. There's a list of song titles at the top of the page and the lyrics seem to have different symbols depending on what song they are originally from.

Whoever owns this spiral is putting together some kind of mash-up or a medley of sorts.

Did Blaine grab Wes's spiral by accident?

No. Wes prints sheet music and makes his notes there. Those sheets are all kept in a black binder, which Blaine knows Wes has with him right now in the Warbler's council meeting. So this belongs to someone else.

Blaine flips back through previous pages and finds three more drafts before coming across a title.

Joan Armatrading Medley

Why did that sound so familiar?

Blaine continued to flip backwards and found similar work. There were about ten medlies and at least twenty songs being split into arrangements regarding different ranges. He then finds detailed dance plans for a group with the same exact number of members as the Warblers.

As he finds more and more work, Blaine becomes more and more impressed. Whoever this is has put a great deal of work into the Warblers and has obviously thought a lot about their style and what will fit with them while also being something new (Blaine hasn't even heard of half of these artists and he doubts that some of the Warblers will be able to pull off the more impressive dance moves but still, it certainly deserves consideration).

Without realizing it, Blaine comes to the very first page of the spiral. At the top, written with great flourish, as if the hand holding the pen were trembling with excitement at the prospect of what this spiral would be, is the title "Dalton Academy Warblers".

Blaine grins at the eagerness bleeding from the page. It's quite endearing.

On that very first page is something that makes the smile drop from his face.

Rio by Duran Duran.

Split into an eight-part harmony.

_I can't deny that The Warbler vocals are absolutely dreamy. But I believe our set for Sectionals this year should have a little more showbiz panache. I think we should open with Rio by Duran Duran._

Kurt.

This spiral belongs to Kurt.

Blaine flips through the spiral again, thinking of all the times he's seen Kurt in class, in the common rooms, at Warbler's practice, in the dorms, even at the Lima Bean scribbling away.

Whenever Blaine asked what Kurt was writing, he always dismissed it as nothing.

Why did Kurt hide this? Some of the ideas were foreign and seemed to come completely out of left field but Blaine certainly couldn't label any of them as bad. Kurt should have at least brought them up for discussion. A new angle like this was risky, but, at the same time, it could win Regionals. And Kurt was keeping it to himself? The title of this spiral clearly stated that Kurt wanted to influence the Warblers and for the better.

The first pages had such excitement in each pen stroke. But, as Blaine read on, something changed. Suddenly, the spiral was more like a hobby rather than a project. Something Kurt did when he was bored, never meant to see the light of day.

Kurt never put this much effort into something he wanted to hide from the world. This wasn't right.

Blaine didn't even know he had left his dorm until he was in the doorway of one of Dalton's common rooms, staring at its only occupant.

Kurt Hummel was bent over a desk, staring at his open textbook, but his eyes were miles away, leaning his cheek into his hand dejectedly, looking like he needed company like he needed a hole in the head.

_Later is fine_.

Blaine looked down to the spiral in his hand before walking over.

_Well, it's later_, _now_.

"Kurt."

This jump is less violent than the one that morning. Blaine tries to find a silver lining in that (he doesn't succeed).

"Blaine?" Kurt's eyes are already scanning the room, seeking out the door, visibly relaxing when he finds the path to it unblocked.

Blaine hands over the spiral without a word (his throat was constricting too tightly to allow any sound through).

Kurt's gaze follows Blaine's arm down to the notebook. It takes him a moment to recognize it. When he does, his eyes go wide and he is out of his chair in an instant, snatching it from Blaine and holding it against his chest, as if that can make Blaine forget its existence.

"I think I accidentally took it after Chemistry today. You must have left it on your desk after we… I… after you left." Blaine bit his lip, hoping that would make him stop talking until his own words agreed to start working for him again.

Kurt swallows with great difficulty, his arms cradle the spiral against his chest, his eyes cast downward.

"Did you…?" Kurt's voice is so small and he's trembling again.

Blaine nods, merciful enough to not force Kurt to finish his question.

"I thought it was my math notebook."

Kurt sucks in a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, then lets it out slowly, nodding. Then he turns and begins packing his things. Blaine knows he wasn't finished with his studying.

Apparently now wasn't later enough.

Kurt mumbles a small thanks, still clutching the notebook tightly so that no one else can take it away from him.

He's halfway to the door before Blaine is in his path, immediately blocking his exit.

"Kurt, wait. We should talk about this."

"Please Blaine. Not now. You agreed to wait…"

"Not about us." That kills Blaine to say but he pushes through it. "About that." He points at the spiral.

Kurt's grip tightens around the notebook. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. You've obviously put a lot of work into it Kurt. It has to mean something to you." Kurt stiffens and Blaine knows he struck a nerve (what nerve exactly, he's not sure). "You've been working on that since you got here. Why didn't you say anything?"

Kurt shrugs, shifting his weight, so blatantly uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter. It wasn't important."

"Of course it's important Kurt. You have ideas that could really help the Warblers. But you haven't said a word in any practices." Blaine grits his teeth because he knows his tone here is accusatory and it has no right to be. He just wants to understand but he isn't asking questions the right way. Why can't Kurt just _talk_ to him?

"The council makes the song selections." Kurt snaps in response (Blaine knows he deserved it so he lets it go) even though his eyes remain hidden.

"Well, yes. But members are allowed to make suggestions."

This is what finally makes Kurt meet Blaine's eyes.

"What did you say?" His voice is barely a whisper but it's somehow stronger than all his previous statements today.

Blaine studies his friend's face, wondering what exactly he said to finally make Kurt look at him. But, Kurt is as much a puzzle now as he was when his face was downcast.

"Members are allowed to bring suggestions to the council. Wes, David, and Thad make all the final decisions but everyone has a say. It has to be done with respect towards tradition and towards the upperclassman but we are a democracy. That's why we vote on everything."

There is a silence between them and Blaine can feel the air charging with something he can't name. He stands, waiting for release.

Kurt lowers his bag to the floor and it hits the ground with a dull thud. Slowly, he takes the spiral in both his hands looking at it for a long while, like he's trying to read it through the cover.

He's not trembling anymore. Blaine knows he should be relieved but he just isn't. He's afraid of what it means.

Kurt walks back to the table he had originally been sitting at. Once the furniture is between them, he faces Blaine, placing the spiral on the tabletop.

"The council takes suggestions?"

Something in Kurt's voice sends a shiver down Blaine's spine. He swallows thickly before answering.

"Of course. The Warblers may value uniformity but we're not about silencing anyone's voice."

Kurt looks like someone just punched him, like he just got the wind knocked out of him and he can't breathe. He places his hands on the table, leaning on them, his head ducked down. Blaine rushes forward, reaching out to his friend, stopped only inches away by Kurt's voice.

"Don't."

Blaine freezes, debating for a long while about whether or not to obey this quiet demand. He knows he should just pull back, give Kurt the space he so obviously wants. But he has a hard time doing so because, in all the time he and Kurt have been friends, he's never seen the boy so shattered.

Deciding that he wouldn't be able to stand being the one to break off yet another piece of Kurt Hummel, he lets his hand drop.

Kurt lifts his head, staring straight ahead, right through Blaine's chest. The pale boy, despite being so shaken, seems determined to continue this conversation

"The Warblers won't silence anyone's voice. I guess that means everyone gets heard, right Blaine? I don't have to scream to be noticed?"

Hazel eyes narrowed in confusion. "Scream? Kurt, you've hardly said a word in Warbler's practice the past two months. You can't expect to be noticed if you don't speak up."

Kurt suddenly goes rigid. Tense moments pass then, Kurt's eyes tilt up, meeting Blaine's, watching him for a long time, his head cocking slightly to the left as he processes what has just been said.

Slowly, a grin spreads across his face, the widest Blaine has every seen, showing off his white perfect teeth.

Blaine takes a step back, eyes wide with shock.

Kurt's eyes, which had been gray since this morning, were growing steadily darker, storm clouds gathering.

Soft, staccato humorless chuckles escaped the pale boy. Small ones, just a few at first, but they grew rapidly in volume and number, the time between them vanishing altogether until Kurt is full out laughing.

He leans more weight on his hands on the table, once more hanging his head down, freeing Blaine from his hysterical gaze. Another string of laughter escapes him before he raises one of his hands to his face and suddenly the laughs sound a lot more like sobs and it doesn't look like Kurt is going to be able to hold himself up much longer.

Blaine walks around the table, slowly, cautiously, stopping right beside the pale boy, not sure what is happening to his friend, needing so badly to be able to fix it. "Kurt?"

Kurt's hand suddenly forms a fist and he brings it down onto the table with a forceful BANG and a cry of anguish.

The chuckles and the sobs have stopped. The arm attached to the still clenched fist shakes a little now and then but other than that, Kurt is steady. He gives a slow shake of his head, letting out a shaky sigh.

"What do you want from me?"

Blaine covers Kurt's white-knuckled fist with his own hand.

He is nearly taken out when Kurt flips the table.

Blaine jumps back just in time, staring in shock at the overturned furniture and the spiral splayed out over the floor.

He whips around to the culprit but any questions on the motivation for such a dramatic action die in his throat.

Kurt's chest is heaving with his ragged gasps, his hands are in his coiffed hair, fingers digging through chestnut locks, grabbing at them, threatening to rip them out, palms over his ears as if there was too much noise, too many people talking at once and he's trying to shut them out. His eyes are squeezed shut, as if by closing them tightly enough he can disappear.

He's absolutely wrecked.

"What. Do. You. _Want from me_?"

It shows in his voice.

Blaine positions himself in front of Kurt, too afraid to reach out and touch him again.

Kurt's eyes finally open and when he sees Blaine, a rage the hazel-eyed boy has never seen before takes over. Kurt suddenly stands tall, his hands now in fists by his side. He sidesteps Blaine, putting distance between them but this time, his eyes never leave Blaine.

"I've done everything you told me to." He states coldly. "I took every piece of advice you gave me. You told me that the council picked the songs. I kept my ideas to myself. You told me that being a Warbler meant fitting in. I stopped trying to stand out."

No. That wasn't what he meant at all. It was just the theatricality. It didn't suit the Warblers. And Kurt knew that. It showed in his spiral, in his ideas. Blaine was just trying to help Kurt understand how the new group worked. He wanted to help Kurt adjust. Not help Kurt change.

"Kurt, you didn't have to…"

"To what! To blend? To stop trying so hard? To stop caring about being noticed? You _told _me to, Blaine! And it's not like I had much choice."

No, no, no. Blaine did _not_ force Kurt into something again. He wouldn't be able to handle it. "What do you mean, no choice?"

"Because I have no where else to go!" Kurt screamed.

Blaine took several steps back, pushed away from Kurt by this outburst.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"What I _mean_, Anderson, is that Dalton is my last stop." Kurt using his last name stings, but not nearly as much as Kurt taking another step away from Blaine, opening and closing his fists helplessly, anger fading and hopelessness replacing it.

"I don't belong at McKinley because I can't walk two feet down those hallways without death threats. I don't belong in Lima because not one person in that town wants me there. I _have_ to make Dalton work because I am running out of options. And, as you've so kindly pointed out, I'll never make it here by being me."

That's not true. None of it. Everything he just said is so _wrong_. Can't he see that?

Kurt will always be a member of New Directions. He has earned the respect, love, and loyalty of each and every one of them. Who cares about the rest of the school?

Forget the population of Lima. His father means everything to Kurt but surely the pale boy knows that he is Burt Hummel's whole universe.

The Warblers don't know him as well but he's a part of them now. David is worrying himself sick over his roommate. Thad had looked so scared during the Home Economics fire, not for his own safety or grade, but because Kurt had been in danger. Nick and Jeff always look so disappointed if Kurt is missing during Warbler hang out sessions (which has been happening more and more frequently. How could Blaine be so blind?). Wes, despite the rejection he's dealt out, truly respects Kurt's voice and talent. He would love Kurt's spiral.

Blaine wants to close the distance between him and Kurt (in every sense) and tell him this. He wants to take Kurt in his arms, tell him that no matter what the rest of the world says, he will always belong right here and just hold him until Kurt believes it.

But he can't. Because Kurt just took another step back, as if he could see what Blaine wanted to do by looking in the other boy's eyes and needed to make it clear how unwelcome the action would be.

"Kurt, I…"

"Save it!" Blaine recoils at how sharp Kurt's voice is, as if it could physically reach out and strike him.

Kurt stalks off, grabbing his bag, quickly pulling it over his shoulder. "I'll talk to you later, Blaine."

He is clearly done with this conversation and on his way towards the door when Blaine's legs finally work. Blaine scoops the spiral up off the floor, trying in vain to flatten the crinkled pages.

"Kurt, you forgot your…"

"Keep it." Kurt tosses over his shoulder, still headed for the door. "Throw it away, burn it, make paper Mache out of it. I don't care anymore."

Blaine's jaw dropped at that. There's no way he means it. There's so much time and effort and love and so much _Kurt_ in this notebook. And he just wants to throw it away? Blaine cradles it against his chest, determined to save it from further harm.

"Kurt, please…"

"Not now Blaine." The pale boy snarls. "I can't deal with this right now." He then mutters darkly, under his breath, surely not meaning for Blaine to hear. "I can't deal with you and your _damned_ mixed signals."

_You can't expect to be noticed if you don't speak up… You'll never make it as a Warbler if all you care about is getting noticed… Joan Armatrading medley…Not sure anyone knows who that is… Not about silencing anyone's voice…You totally led Kurt on… You don't sing that song to someone who's in love with you… Did you know Kurt thought you were singing to him…_

_Damned mixed signals_

Blaine is getting dizzy. His thoughts are coming in too fast. His brain, which has been struggling to keep up with everything that's been going on these past few days, is suddenly working at hyper speed. It's too much and not enough and way too fast and how can Kurt just walk away? This is far from over. They are so not done here. He can't just let Kurt leave because there's so much not being said and Blaine can't lie to himself anymore because later is not fine.

"Kurt, wait. Kurt. Stop! Kurt!"

Blaine grabs a hold of the other boy's arm just as he reaches the door jam. He spins Kurt around to face him because he can't let Kurt leave.

Just as the pale boy is facing him, there is a violent shove to the center of his chest, robbing him of air. "LET GO OF ME!" and he is stumbling back, tripping over his own feet and landing flat out on his back on the floor, his head colliding painfully with the floor. His vision darkens at the corners and his head spins for a moment before he feels the pain of the impact. He props himself up on his elbows, glancing up at Kurt (who has suddenly gotten so much taller) before he realizes what happened.

He grabbed Kurt and the countertenor shoved him. Kurt pushed him. Kurt _hit_ him.

Blaine _grabbed_ Kurt.

The friends stare at each other for a long while, both shocked at the other's actions, ashamed of their own.

Kurt tries to take a step forward, and they're both aware of a time not too long ago when he would have been at Blaine's side the instant the soloist lost balance, when he would have caught Blaine before he could fall at all. Kurt tries to reach out to his fallen friend but can't. Instead, he wraps his hands around the strap of his messenger bag, biting his lip.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

"Kurt…" Blaine begins yet again.

"Blaine, please." Kurt begs with his eyes since his words have failed to make any impact on his friend.

Looking into Kurt's eyes, watching Kurt's heart break (again) because of him (_again_) Blaine clamps his jaw shut. He doesn't say another word.

"Blaine, you're my best friend. You _are_. I… I miss you."

He does? The tightness in Blaine's chest eases ever so slightly.

"I'm sure that sounds stupid."

It doesn't.

"It's only been three days since we've really talked."

Three horrendous, grueling days and Blaine is pretty much falling apart.

"I know I've been weird and I'm sorry."

Why in the hell is Kurt apologizing? Does he seriously think he's to blame?

"After all, it's not your fault that I'm… This isn't your problem and I shouldn't be making you deal with it."

Well there's Blaine's answer. Too bad it's so completely messed up. Forget about this ridiculous notion that Kurt thinks he alone has somehow caused this rift between them.

How is something that is Kurt's problem _not_ automatically Blaine's problem too? Kurt could talk to Blaine about anything. He knew that.

Didn't he?

"I'm sorry for freezing you out like this."

Oh god, please stop apologizing.

"I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been so good to me. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Why did Kurt make it sound like he was in debt with a particularly forgiving bank? He didn't owe Blaine anything. This was what friends were for.

"And I know, usually when there's something wrong and you push me to talk about it, it's for the best. We've always been completely honest with each other. Please believe me Blaine. That hasn't' changed. I haven't lied to you, I swear. Please know that."

It takes everything Blaine has to keep looking Kurt in the eye. He can't let himself look away, can't give himself up as the fake that he is. Because Kurt doesn't know what prompted Burt's Talk, doesn't know about the weekend marathon of YouTube videos, doesn't know about the phone call to New Directions. And Blaine hadn't come here to tell Kurt the truth about any of that. He lied. He's lying now. And _Kurt_ is begging Blaine to believe _his_ honesty, as if it were ever in question. Blaine knows, he just _knows_, that if he looks away due to his own guilt, Kurt will think that Blaine doubts him. So, he keeps constant eye contact with his friend, never once looking away, never batting an eye at the talk of full disclosure. All for Kurt's sake.

Blaine still hates himself for being able to. For lying to Kurt again.

"But sometimes…"

Kurt's voice sounds choked and he takes a deep breath, swallowing whatever made him crack, holding it back so that Blaine won't see it.

"This time, I really need you to respect when I say _not now_."

And then Kurt was gone.

Blaine lets him go.

He stays on that floor for a long while, having no motivation to stand. He watches his friend disappear then leans his throbbing head back onto the floor, runs his hands over his face, covering it completely before he lets himself cry.

Blaine sobs his heart out because he wants so badly to believe Kurt's assurances that everything will be fine if he just gives it time but he's already ruined it because he got so damn impatient with later that he tried now or never again. He screwed up later and Kurt couldn't give him now.

And Blaine is pretty damn sure he won't survive never.

So where does that leave them?

With Kurt off alone, probably thinking that that's how he'll have to spend the rest of his life since he thinks he doesn't belong anywhere in this world all because he listened to his stupid friend's stupid advice while Blaine lies on a wooden floor, tears streaming down his face as he clings to the one piece of Kurt he hasn't managed to destroy yet, running out of reasons to think that Finn was wrong about him being no good for Kurt.

That's where.

Tear tracks drying on his cheeks, his throat and head aching after all his sobs, Blaine finally finds some shred of dignity and picks himself up off the floor. He leaves the table flipped because it's been proven time and again that Blaine Anderson is no good at fixing things. He doesn't bother to straighten his uniform or put on his show face before heading out into the hall. He just holds the spiral close to his chest, determined to protect it, to keep it exactly as it is, to never let anyone change a single thing about it. Because it's special. Changing something special ruins it. Maybe it's a lesson Blaine learned too little too late but he's not going to let anyone ruin this.

Blaine makes it back to his empty dorm room just as dinner is getting started. He sits on his bed and flips through the pages of the spiral again, stopping every time something catches his interest (which is pretty much every page) and reading, trying to understand every thought behind each pen stroke. He runs his fingers along the lines of the pages, caressing it gently.

It doesn't heal the ache in his head (or his heart) and it doesn't dry his tears but it's still soothing somehow.

He's so lost in this trance that he doesn't even notice his phone ringing until he's already answered it.

"Hello?" His voice is rough and cracked from crying.

"Blaine? Boy, you sound terrible. You feeling alright?"

Blaine doubts he could put his feelings into words right now. He knows that voice. He doesn't even bother praying to any deity (it's not like they've been listening lately) because he would recognize that voice anywhere. You spend enough time with Kurt, you know this voice as well as your own. And really, he should have expected this. He should have known the day this started that he would get this call.

That doesn't stop the shock from seeping into his voice as he answers.

"Mercedes?"

* * *

><p><em>Cliff: What a lovely day. I think I'll go for a walk.<em>

_Well, that sounds nice. Have fu-... Wait! Cliff, look out for the..._

_Cliff: *falls off ledge and grabs onto protruding branch*_

_*face palm* Stripes? You and your penguin army up for another mission? Reviewers? You guys willing to send in reinforcements?_

_Cliff: Can't... hold... on...much...LONGER!_

*sigh* For the love of...

_*dejected singing*  
>Cliff<br>Hanger  
><em>_Hanging from a cliff..._


	10. Chapter 10

_Cliff has been successfully rescued and, for his own safety, has been taken from my custody. He now lives happily with NYASAR-TAN and thanks to PTIROBO's glasses; his days of cliff hanging are over._

_Special thanks to XXLITTLE ROSE ANGELXX's penguin army for overseeing the rescue mission. Medals of valor were awarded to 78KORI's dolphin militia who showed incredible bravery. Though I had given up on her, Rachel Berry has begun to redeem herself by leading THELEGS's penguin club in aiding in this mission. They provided supplies and made the celebratory t-shirts. And finally, for being so fabulous, even Kurt was impressed; INKINHART's magical unicorn was awarded a lifetime supply of pixie sticks._

_Siriusly guys. Your reviews are love. Thank you so much._

_I know you're eager for this chapter (I certainly kept you waiting long enough), but before we begin, I do have one question for you guys. LAWABOOKWORM suggested that I change the category for this story since it got so intense. Some others have brought to my attention that the story has taken a dramatic turn (which, I'll admit, I always intended it to) and that it caught them by surprise. I'm a little iffy on changing the category because the beginning is written with such humor. I thought maybe I'd eased you guys into the drama by having Blaine's thoughts go beyond just being into Kurt. At the very beginning, Blaine feels the tension in his and Kurt's relationship. But I guess it really did turn angsty pretty fast. Anyway, my question is who thinks I should change the category? I'm still not sure but if enough of you guys feel strongly about it, then I should definitely look into it._

_Alright, alright. Enough torture. For you at least. I'm not quite done with Blaine yet. *rubs hands evilly*_

_DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)_

* * *

><p>"Blaine…"<p>

Ok Anderson, keep calm.

"I talked to Rachel this morning and somewhere under all her squawking, she mentioned a phone call…"

It's just Mercedes and she's on the phone.

"Which I still can't believe I was left out of. Honestly, one ill-timed slushie and I miss everything…"

It's not like she can cut a bitch (her words, not his) by sheer force of will. She has to be in the same room at least (Blaine's never been so thankful for those two hours between Lima and Westerville in his life). There was no reason to flip out.

"And I can't believe they didn't think to tell me until this morning. It is _my_ white boy we're talking about…"

Just talk about this rationally. She's a girl with her head on straight. She'll understand. He just has to keep his wits about him. Explain himself properly (there's a first time for everything, right?) and maybe she'll even help him understand everything that's been happening. After all, she said it herself: Kurt is _her_ white boy (Blaine feels that same anger he'd felt against Puck growl possessively in his chest. He firmly tells it to get lost. It hasn't been doing him any favors). If anyone knows what's going on with him, it would be her.

"It's my job to look out for Kurt…"

Breathe, Blaine. She's not going to chop his head (or anything else) off. He can get through this without evoking her rage.

He just has to _stay calm_.

"Anyway, the others filled me in and told me that you're…"

"I'M NOT TRYING TO MOLEST KURT!

Yeah. Like that. Good job Blaine.

Oh man, this dead silence can _not _be a good thing.

Mercedes takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Here it comes…

"Those guys really did a number on you, didn't they?"

Wait… she's not mad?

"Blaine? I know you're not trying to hurt him. You can breathe now."

He does as she says, still not quite able to grasp what's going on.

"You're… you're not going to kill me?" That question shouldn't be as literal as it is.

"No. I know what a good friend you are to Kurt."

Everything inside of Blaine freezes.

Well… that's different.

He wishes this call had come earlier, back when the smallest part of him could believe her.

"Stop it." Mercedes cuts through his thoughts. "I know what you're thinking and I know it's because of those idiots I sing with. But they're wrong."

Blaine wonders how exactly _Mercedes Jones_ can defend him when it comes to how he's treated Kurt.

When she begins to answer this question without his prompting, he also begins to wonder how she knows what he's thinking (and tries to figure out a way to stop her. He already has Wevid; the last thing he needs is another voice in his head).

"Out of all of us, you have been the best friend to Kurt. You saw him when the rest of us were too wrapped up in our own worlds. You were there for him when we weren't. Yeah, we're all trying to do right by him now, but when it counted, you had Kurt's back and we didn't. They have no right to say you're not good for Kurt. You hearing me, Blaine?"

"Yeah." Blaine nods, thinking that over.

He remembers Kurt sitting across from him that first day; the very first time they got coffee. He had looked at this beautiful person, unable to believe that no one was seeing him break. When Kurt had called Blaine immediately after Karofsky's assault (it wasn't a kiss, it didn't count, and it would be wiped from Kurt's memory the second he experienced the real thing. Blaine _guarantees_ it), he had made it halfway to Lima before the raging desire to beat the Neanderthal senseless began to fade. He remembers feeling so helpless, pinned against that fence, having Kurt rip that behemoth off of him, watching uselessly as Kurt broke a little more. And Blaine remembers feeling a new kind of rage, one directed at everyone who had just stood by and watched this all happen.

After the threatening phone calls to the Warblers that warned them to look after Kurt, after the boys had driven down to Dalton and made a show of walking the grounds with Kurt, forming a protective perimeter around him, after the girls began calling Kurt everyday to check up on him, after they began doing everything in their power to make it up to their lost member Blaine began to forgive them. Through Kurt's stories and the light in his eyes when he spent time with them, Blaine even developed a fondness for New Directions. There was a good heart buried deep beneath the insanity.

But there had been a time when he hated them. He hated each and every person who did nothing and dared to call themselves Kurt's friends. And he had promised himself that he would never be like that. Blaine had promised himself (promised _Kurt_) that he would do whatever he could for the other boy. Maybe he couldn't tackle Karofsky and maybe he couldn't be at Kurt's side while he braved the halls of McKinley. But he could be a friend (a _real_ friend); he could be someone who understood, someone Kurt could let go with, a safe place for Kurt to forget about the poison that surrounded his life. So that was what he did.

Guess he didn't let Kurt down in _every_ possible way. Blaine found some solace in that.

"And you're not just some distraction from the bullying."

Ok, seriously. Mercedes needs to get out of Blaine's brain right now.

"Quit freaking out short stuff. You're not that difficult to read. If you were just helping Kurt cope with the shit at McKinley, you guys would have had a major fallout when he transferred. And that didn't happen, now did it?"

No. They had been close from the start but once Kurt came to Dalton, they were _inseparable_.

At least, Blaine had thought they were. Looking around his very empty dorm room (the one that should be occupied by Wes and David while he was over at Kurt's), reminded him that he had thought a lot of things.

"I couldn't just leave him once he got here. He needed someone to lean on until he got his footing. After everything Karof–…" Blaine stopped himself. Reopening old wounds would solve nothing. Kurt was safe now. No one could touch him at Dalton. Blaine wouldn't _let_ any one touch Kurt. That was that. "I wasn't going to abandon him."

"I knew you wouldn't." And Mercedes said that so kindly Blaine felt his heart break. "I saw you two at Breadstix. I could always tell when he'd just come from being with you because he had that same smile on his face each time. You were a much better friend to him than any of us had ever been. Including me."

"Mercedes…" Blaine tries to soothe the girl who sounds close to tears.

"Christmas break. That was when I knew you were going to be around for a while, when I knew Kurt had found someone good for him. That's why I'm not joining the ranks of people who want your head on a platter. And I know you know the day I'm talking about."

Strangely enough, he did.

Christmas break had been when Kurt and Blaine really got to know each other. Kurt had come to see Blaine at the King's Island Christmas Spectacular and they had gone out for coffee after (the start of that particular tradition). They ended up seeing each other every day. Blaine even spent part of Christmas with the Hummel-Hudson's (his own family is distant and he really doesn't want to talk about it right now). Plans were never really made. One would just fire off a text to the other and they would meet at Kurt's house. Sometimes Blaine would just show up, which might have seemed odd if he wasn't always welcomed into the house like family.

That was how he ended up on the front porch on the anniversary of Elizabeth Hummel's death.

Finn had been on his way out, wanting to give father and son space, and advised Blaine to do the same. Carole stayed, wanting to be there for her husband and stepson (she knew there was nothing she could do. She just couldn't bring herself to leave), but told the shorter boy that Kurt hadn't said a word to anyone and that it would probably be best if he was alone. Blaine could come back tomorrow.

A good friend would have left, knowing that this was a hard time for Kurt There are some things you need to deal with on your own and sometimes, there are no magic words to make it right again. The best thing for a hurting friend, when it came to pain like this, was to let them be, let them feel hurt and then be there when they were ready to heal. All of Kurt's other friends and even his stepbrother understood this.

But, Blaine remembered a painful anniversary of his own. The week before school let out for winter holidays had marked the day Blaine transferred to Dalton Academy. It had been two years and the universe decided to remind Blaine in the worst possible way, shattering every protective wall he had built around himself, wrenching him out of his denial, forcing him to recognize that, after all this time, after making friends, after finding a safe place, after bruises had faded, after he learned to hide his scars, after escaping his living nightmare, he still wasn't ok yet.

Kurt had been there, had seen a piece of Blaine Anderson that no one (not his friends, not his roommate, not his family, not _anyone_) had been exposed to. Given Blaine's track record, he prepared to be abandoned for his weakness. Now that Kurt saw who Blaine really was, he was sure to leave and find better company.

Instead, Kurt wrapped Blaine in his arms and shielded him from the pain and the fear and the memories that threatened to come back. He stayed.

Blaine had turned his eyes on Burt Hummel, a question in them. After receiving a shrug and a slight nod (telling him he could try), Blaine had gone upstairs.

He and Kurt didn't say a word. They sat in Kurt's room, on the floor with all the drawers of his dresser opened. When he had come in, Kurt had been listening to soft music on a cassette tape, breathing in deeply, trying to get as much of that sweet smell that filled the room as he could. Blaine grabbed Kurt's laptop and a DVD from his shelf. He turned off the music and turned on the movie. Kurt remained still all throughout the trailers. But once the movie began to play, something inside of him woke up. He whipped around to face Blaine, his mouth working, trying to say something, trying to put everything about that moment, that day, and all the years that made this day what it was into words. Blaine sat behind Kurt, wrapping his arms around the pale boy's waist, pulling him close. Kurt collapsed into Blaine's chest. He laughed, cried, and screamed all at once. Throughout the rest of the day, he would shed a tear or giggle or make other noises or other expressions that Blaine didn't understand. And he didn't attempt to, didn't ask for an explanation. He just held him through it all. He ended up spending the night, holding Kurt while the other boy felt his pain, held him in the morning, helping him to get ready to face another year. Blaine held Kurt the way the pale boy had held him not so long ago.

And so Kurt and Blaine cemented a vital role in each other's lives.

"How did you know?" Mercedes asks voice drenched in awe. "Because not one of us would have ever considered watching that old cartoon with Kurt. Finn said Kurt's _dad_ was shocked."

Of all the questions he'd been asked, this was the one Blaine didn't have to think about.

"Kurt's mom watched it with him. Every Saturday while his dad worked in the garage. It was the last thing they watched together before she…" Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat, remembering the tears in Kurt's eyes the first time he'd admitted he was raised by a single parent. "There's a picture of them sitting on the couch, watching that movie. She's got Kurt in her lap and he's got an action figure and they're eating pizza and they look so happy and he's… That's his favorite picture. So I figured…"

"Blaine." Mercedes cut in and Blaine is actually thankful that she stopped his rambling. "That's his _favorite_ picture?"

Blaine confirms this, wondering what is going through her mind (cursing the fact that he can't read her the way she can read him).

"You know Kurt's favorite picture of his mom. Oh Blaine…"

"What?" He's so confused because now she sounds like she's going to cry and like she's trying not to laugh at the same time.

"I don't even know what she looks like."

There. Right there, Blaine can hear pain in her voice. He can hear pain and anger and everything he's supposed to understand but just _doesn't_.

He realizes that he hasn't understood whatever it is for a long time now. And that's why New Directions (Mercedes included, though she is holding back out of respect for a time before he was missing the giant neon arrow pointing at what he's supposed to already know) is so angry, why David and Wes and the rest of the Warblers look crushed but not surprised when they saw the rift between their soloist and countertenor, and why what hadn't even started as a real fight could end up destroying whatever (Nothing is clear to Blaine anymore. What _do_ they have exactly?) Kurt and Blaine have.

This problem is more than what started this past weekend. Blaine's been blind for so long and now it's blowing up in his face because he should have seen it (whatever it is). As Mercedes has pointed out, he sees everything else when it comes to Kurt.

She recognizes that the person who is closest to Kurt, who has done as much as he can for the pale boy, who only wants to do what is best for Kurt is part of the problem and that's partly _because_ he is that person. But, unlike everyone else, she still thinks he can be part of the solution.

Blaine sits a little straighter. Mercedes still has faith in him. All hope can't be lost.

The fabulous diva on the other end of the phone takes a deep breath before asking why Blaine had been calling New Directions in the first place.

Blaine tells her about seeing the Mellencamp video (he leaves out the tale of the other videos, hoping ND hasn't told her that part. Mercedes can only forgive so much and Blaine isn't dumb enough to push his luck).

"Oh, that." She says sadly. She takes in a deep breath and Blaine does the same, preparing for the story. "It was last year. Kurt was trying to…" Mercedes pauses as if the words cause her physical pain. "Kurt was trying to be someone else."

Blaine lets out the breath he's been holding in a sudden rush (clutching the spiral in his lap with a white-knuckled grip), his fears confirmed.

"But why?" He asks, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Kurt knows who he is. Why would he let anyone tell him that he's wrong? He should only ever be himself. Kurt's amazing. He's the bravest man I've ever met and he's so strong and smart and kind and talented and loyal and compassionate and…"

Blaine fumbles because (while all true) none of these words are good enough.

"Kurt is _special_. And he deserves to be treated as such. Anyone who makes him feel like he's less than that isn't worth…" A sudden ache in his chest (a sudden need to clutch that spiral again) stops his words.

_That stopped being about McKinley a long time ago, didn't it Blaine?_

Damn you Wevid (why do you always have to be right?).

"What would have ever made Kurt feel like he had to change?"

"His dad."

And Mercedes is truly a merciful woman because she doesn't let Blaine dwell on that thought, doesn't let him twist and wonder how on earth Burt Hummel (the best father Blaine has ever met) could make his son feel ashamed of who he was.

She tells him about Finn and Burt getting close and Blaine winces in sympathy for Kurt, only able to imagine how badly that stung. Blaine may have issues with his own father that Kurt will never experience (thank god), but Blaine has never had to compete for his father's affection. Blaine's never had the "perfect son" waltz in to replace him. He's never felt like he was in second place.

"Kurt keeps a lot of things to himself so I don't have any details on how this all went down with his dad. None of us do. The next week, Kurt was back to his fabulous, designer, diva self. If _that's_ the Kurt you want to see, I've got a video suggestion for you."

Blaine's jaw dropped in horror.

Sweet god, not again. He'd had a conversation like this not so long ago (yesterday) and it didn't exactly end well (understatement of the year).

"Trust me on this, short stuff. It's something I think you need to see."

Blaine nods mutely (despite knowing the conversation with David had had a similar ring to it), putting blind faith in this girl.

Mercedes gave him the name of the video, having somehow understood his silent gesture.

As Blaine powers up his laptop (dread/anticipation/outright _fear_ coursing through his system), Mercedes gives her final message.

"I still think you have a chance. Kurt's given you a lot and God knows this is the last I'll give you but I don't think it's too late."

Blaine can feel something heavy in her words, something he still doesn't see. But, suddenly, he feels _so close_. Something is starting to click. Something is telling him how damn grateful he is that it may not be too late.

"Don't screw it up."

Mercedes hangs up without waiting for his reply but Blaine promises anyway.

He takes in a deep breath and presses play before he has the chance to chicken out.

_**A black screen suddenly lights up, presenting an empty stage.**_

How the film crew was able to set up a camera (let alone film) in the auditorium is beyond Blaine.

Never again will he question the power and influence of Rachel Berry.

_**Noises sound off-camera. Stomping, slamming, banging and other sounds of fury can be heard. In a state of semi-dress, Kurt walks out on stage.**_

Blaine's breath hitches. He doesn't bother to deny it.

There's nothing showing. But the sheer power in Kurt's motions is stunning.

Nevertheless, his movements display such ire and frustration.

_**Kurt does up the top buttons of a blue shirt, straightening it with a tad more force than necessary. With a sneer of utter disgust, he rips the trucker hat from atop his head and hurls it away. He reaches into his back pocket and, with flourish still stained with rage, pulls out a blue scarf, decorated with skulls. He ties it around his neck, yanking at the knot with such finality and suddenly he's standing there, dressed as he should be, presenting the true Kurt Hummel to the world without a smidgen of shame. But it's still not enough. His chest is heaving with ragged breaths. He's still suffocating.**_

It's as if he's been holding it all in and is about to experience a long over due explosion.

_**Kurt gives a tiny exhale, shrugging. He looks at his invisible audience, as if he's waiting for requests that he has no choice but to acquiesce. **_

_What do you want from me?_

For whatever reason, now is when Blaine starts to get it.

_**Kurt surges forward, his eyes demanding an answer.  
><strong>_**"All**** that work  
><strong>**And what did it get me?  
><strong>**Why did I do it?"**

Blaine clutches the spiral desperately, thinking of every time Kurt's ideas had been shot down. How many times _Kurt _has been shot down.

**"****S****crapbooks full of me in the background  
><strong>**Give 'em love and what does it get you?"**

Ignored. Rejected. Shoved to the back. Like he's not good enough.

**"What**** does it get you?  
><strong>**One quick look  
><strong>**As each of 'em leaves you"**

Trying his hardest only to always be left behind.

**"****All your life and what does it get you?  
><strong>**Thanks a lot  
><strong>**And out with the garbage  
><strong>**They take bows and your batting zero"**

The New Directions, who had found safety and family and acceptance with each other but who hadn't been able to extend that promise to Kurt, not fully. Always making him the outsider, a misfit among misfits.

**"****I had a dream  
><strong>**I dreamed it for you, Dad  
><strong>**It wasn't for me, Dad"**

Always feeling as though he'd let his father down. As if he'd had a false start. Tripped from the very beginning. The most important person in his life and Kurt always felt as though he would never be able to hold on. The tighter he held on, the more his father slipped through his fingers.

Watching helplessly as Finn loped effortlessly into the lead. Feeling so easily replaced. Having Finn, his friend, someone who was supposed to have his back, supposed to be there for him, disregard him completely and try to snatch something away from Kurt. Trying to snatch away Kurt's most precious something. As if Kurt didn't matter.

**"****And if it wasn't for me  
><strong>**Then where would you be  
><strong>**Miss Rachel Berry?"**

And Finn wasn't the only one guilty of that kind of betrayal.

**"****Well  
><strong>**Someone tell me  
><strong>**When is it my turn?"**

Dalton was supposed to be different.

**"****Don't I get a dream for myself?"**

This was supposed to be his chance. Blaine had _told_ him that this was his chance.

**"****Staring now  
><strong>**It's gonna be my turn  
><strong>**Gang way world  
><strong>**Get off of my runway"**

Kurt had come through Dalton's doors, guns blazing, ready to take the world by storm. Ready for a world that would let him shine.

**"****Starting now  
><strong>**I bat a thousand  
><strong>**This time boys  
><strong>**I'm taking the bows and"**

Ready for his chance.

**"****Everything's coming up Kurt  
><strong>**Everything's coming up Hummel  
><strong>**Everything's coming up Kurt  
><strong>**This time for me"**

Ready to actually follow through on this song's promise.

**"****For me  
><strong>**For me  
><strong>**For me  
><strong>**For me  
><strong>**For me  
><strong>**For  
><strong>**ME!"**

_**Kurt stood center stage. The stage was bare but it was clear in Kurt's eyes that he saw his name in lights, where it belonged. As his voice rang out, he lifted his arms, reaching out to everything a viewer was blind to but could almost see because of the pure hunger on Kurt's face. "Moving" is an understatement.**_

As the video goes black, Blaine thinks back to a certain audition.

'Don't Cry For Me Argentina'. Kurt's voice longing and powerful and so much more than the Warblers are used to. Kurt raising his arms.

Blaine shaking his head, indicating that it's too much.

It clicks.

Blaine buries his face in his hands, needing a moment.

For once, Blaine is able to think this through calmly.

It's almost funny if you think about it. This is all because of a misunderstanding.

Kurt hadn't been smart about his audition. He needed to find songs that could be arranged for acapella groups, something that allowed for backing by all the Warblers. There were some songs he could have done with New Directions that he couldn't with the Warblers (the opposite was true as well) and he just had to learn what worked and what didn't.

Blaine had only wanted to reinforce that idea.

The thing was, Kurt did realize this. He would have gotten there on his own. But, thanks to Blaine's interference and his poorly received advice, Kurt thinks he has nothing to offer because he's different (_Special_, the possessive anger in his chest argues. Blaine counters back forcefully that he knows Kurt is special, thank you very much. He doesn't need anyone else pointing it out for him. And he certainly doesn't need another voice in his head to argue with. Jeez, how many are there now?).

Replaying all their conversations, listening to them through Kurt's ears, it's all too easy to understand how the countertenor could have come to this conclusion.

Blaine takes a moment to curse his obliviousness and resulting insensitivity. But only a moment.

Because he still has Mercedes' assurance from just a few minutes ago. He still has her faith in his and Kurt's friendship. And he still has his promise to her to not screw this up.

That doesn't mean he's going to ignore the criticisms of New Directions. He's made mistakes. He'll own up to that.

This brings him back to the thought of Kurt having feelings for him. Though he and Kurt have denied this accusation again and again, the arguments from Kurt's end suddenly seem weak. Could Blaine have been blind to this too?

How deep were Kurt's feelings for him? Did he want to pursue something other than friendship? Did that play into their fight? How long has Kurt felt this way? Was it just a crush? Physical attraction? Curiosity? Or was it something more?

Did Kurt love him?

Were those feeling still there? When was the last time Kurt had talked to his friends about feeling this way? Had they changed since he gave his friends the impression that he was interested? Had Kurt's feelings grown deeper? Or had New Directions misunderstood the situation and Blaine was getting his hopes up for no reason.

_Getting your hopes up? _Of course Wevid chose now to interject.

Blaine shook those thoughts away. Now wasn't the time. He'd figure that out later (Wevid grumbled angrily and that same possessive, easily aggravated growling stirred in his chest but Blaine shoved those aside).

He'd been saying since the beginning that he and Kurt needed to really _talk_. He just hadn't realized how much needed to be said.

And this _not now_ business. The time that's passing is starting to scare him. He can feel it eating away at his and Kurt's connection.

But he can't force himself on Kurt. Especially when he's not entirely sure on where to start with all that needs to be said. Charging in without a plan has done nothing but make it worse.

And that broken look on Kurt's face. If Blaine lives his whole life and never sees that look on Kurt again, it will be too soon.

But Blaine is impatient. He always has been. Kurt has often teased him about this (that sends a bitter pang through Blaine's heart but he's taking it in stride because he's had time to feel pain and now is the time to start mending). He can't just let it be, knowing how stubborn Kurt is, how reluctant he is to reach out to someone when he's hurting.

This time would be different. Blaine knows that he won't be blindsided this time. It took some time (Too much time? Better late than never?) but Blaine has seen past the surface issue. He's not trying for a single fix. He knows that this is a deep problem; something that needs to be set right and that will take time. He's ok with that.

Anything worth having is worth fighting for. Blaine is going to fight tooth and nail because he is in this for the long haul.

Kurt is worth everything to Blaine.

_Well Blaine, then the question is, how do you make Kurt see that?_

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><p>…<p>

_I said that Cliff was no longer in my custody. I said nothing about me PERSONALLY not hanging off cliffs._

_For the record, Mercedes totally knows about the other videos. She looked up the YouTube channel after her talk with Rachel and it didn't take too long to put two and two together. She's a smart girl. And, in addition to planning to show Rachel the video of Kurt nailing the high F (Rachel arranged for the videos to be made but, after a while, the AV Club just kind of ran with the project. They didn't tell her about filming Kurt rehearsing), Mercedes decided to finally get through the little hobbits gel helmet and make him see what's right in front of him. She ships Klaine just as hard as the rest of us. ;)_

_Leave a review if when Blaine shoved his thoughts aside, you were snapping your fingers going "DAMN IT! So close!"_

_I know I was._

_*sigh* Oh Blaine. So close and yet…_


	11. Chapter 11

_I now know what is like to try and give something life, bring it into this world with as much preparation as I can give, only to have it fight me every step of the way and refuse to be born for three months and eight days._

_Childbirth can suck it._

_*logging in* Let's see how this story is doing. *reads review count* 0_0 SWEET MOTHER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN! T-T-T-T-T-THREE HU-HU-HUNDRED REVIEWS? *passes out*_

_Oh sweet gaga. Thank you so much. This... I can't even explain how much this means to me. For goodness sake, some of you went back to previous chapters just to write another review! I don't know what I have done to deserve a following as wonderful as you all but I am so thankful._

_Now I know I've kept you waiting an ungodly amount of time for this one. I just want to say that I have decided to change the category for this story to humor/angst. Thank you everyone who weighed in. Many people made great points for both sides but since this took such a dramatic turn and I did want it to be more than just a YouTube fic, I will alter the category accordingly._

_Y'all ready for this? Is Blaine? Let's find out!_

_DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)_

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><p>Walking to dinner in Dalton's cafeteria is probably the only time Wesley Hughes is seen without his study materials or his gavel (the severity of his attachment to that object disturbs everyone). It's also the only time he's heard talking about something that isn't Warblers or academics. It's a rare sight but some say they've even seen him <em>smile<em>.

David, of course, takes full credit for (read: brags relentlessly about causing) this state of good humor. It is his job after all to remind Wes that he is indeed, a fellow teenager and needs to act like it once in a while.

Today however, neither boy is as jovial as they usually are.

Wes had picked up a rather forlorn David form his dorm room after the dark skinned boy had failed in his mission to get Kurt to come down with them (the pale boy should have already been down there with a certain soloist but the days of a nauseatingly devoted to each other Kurt and Blaine are apparently a thing of the past). Wes had tried to comfort David by assuring him that whatever issue the friends had with each other would pass.

Wes isn't sure of that at all but what good would it have done to tell David such a thing? Of the two, David had always been the more empathetic soul.

David takes _everything_ personally. If a friend is hurting, David is hurting just as badly. Factoring that in with David's need to adopt suffering transfers and Kurt's tendency to shut people out whenever he was vulnerable means that Wes is spending his dinner trying to push a chicken salad onto a very despondent David.

For the briefest of seconds, Wes thinks he's broken through this haze of melancholy around the other boy. David is suddenly sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his eyes open, bright, and focused. Wes had been about to congratulate his friend on making the journey back to planet Earth when he followed David's gaze to the doors.

Kurt Hummel peers around the room, surveying his surroundings for predators before journeying any further towards the watering hole. Deeming the place safe enough, he makes his way across the room, only noticing that he was walking towards Blaine Anderson's seat mere seconds before tripping over the shorter boy. After a few good seconds of staring, he reaches out, as if to put a hand on the soloist's shoulder (David sucks in a sharp breath and holds it). He is barely an inch away (and suddenly the cafeteria is impossibly quiet and still, as if the room itself is holding it's breath just as much as David) when he stops and peers at whatever Blaine is bent over and staring at intensely.

A look (indiscernible from this distance) crosses the pale boy's face and in a flash, he has whipped around and fled, gone as if he'd never come.

David immediately sags down in his chair, poking uselessly at his food with obviously no intention of eating or offering any form of intelligent conversation.

Blaine is still bent over whatever it is and has been since he first came down to dinner (alone) and sat at that table. He hasn't even gone for food.

Wes glances between his friends, weighing his options. He's never been one to meddle. People tend to get defensive when their life choices were questioned, Blaine in particular. He got rather snippy which, while tolerable, was unpleasant. If the issue was pressed however, Blaine turned downright nasty, lashing out with words he didn't mean but with intention to hurt (Wes has a sneaking suspicion that this played into Klaine's fight after that party in Lima with what's-her-face who led Blaine astray from the rainbow path of homosexuality). After getting chewed out for asking about Blaine's holiday plans when there was no mention of family or friends (after which Blaine decided to enlighten Wes to the fact that he was "a nosy pest who was trying to ignore the emptiness of his own life by prying into other's") Wes had decided to leave Blaine to his own devices.

This means that Wes had firmly decided to view the development of Klaine as a spectator sport.

David has a different view. He is very much of the "they'll thank me later" school of thought, which Wes never truly understood because even when the meddling worked (and most often, it didn't) the meddler was never thanked at all. David merely brushed this argument away, and begged and pleaded with Wes to help him with Operation Double Rainbow (yes, Wes thought the name was clichéd and predictable too), trying to appeal to Wes' humanitarian side. The eye-sex is torture for everyone.

Now, Wes has great self-restraint. One did not withstand four months of unresolved sexual tension, longing looks, and nearly intolerable cluelessness without an iron will. He had been determined to sit back and let the two boys figure themselves out (or forever dance around one another as seemed more and more likely with every passing day).

But sitting in a cafeteria that has an atmosphere as dejected as his bro (Exactly how much of Dalton was invested in the ups and downs of this relationship anyway?), Wes has to admit defeat. He takes one last look at David (staring sadly at the doorway Kurt had vanished through) and Blaine (still staring at something in front of him but none-too-subtly eyeing the seat next to him where Kurt is supposed to be, as if looking over enough times will make the countertenor appear) and gives a heavy sigh.

The winds have changed.

Grabbing a hold of David's wrist, he promptly drags the other boy towards Blaine's table. Mr. Thompson catches on pretty quickly.

"I thought we weren't going to get involved."

"Well, our little hobbit has proven himself more oblivious than even I anticipated."

A new light enters David's eyes and his pace quickens to match Wes's.

"Intervention?"

"Intervention."

David fist-pumps until they reach the aforementioned hobbit.

Blaine's head snaps up at the sound of chairs being pulled back. Neither Wes nor David misses the way his face falls at seeing them. David also notices that, as he leans on the table, Blaine has quickly closed the spiral in front of him (so _that's_ what he's been obsessing over all day) and is now pulling it closer to him, as if David was planning on taking it.

David can't help but be puzzled. Blaine has never been that protective about his math notebook before.

Sharing a questioning look with Wes, they decide not to pester him.

"Alright Blainers. What's this lover's tiff between you and Kurtsie all about?"

Well, they aren't going to pester him about the notebook.

Blaine ducks his head, tightens his death grip on the spiral, pulling it off the table and into his lap (ok, maybe it's not his notes. No one looked to math for comfort).

David would have crowed in victory because Blaine hadn't insisted that he and Kurt were just friends. He would have, if Blaine didn't look so small all of a sudden.

"Does this have anything to do with his issues with 'Animal'?" Wes asks calmly.

David looked between Wes and Blaine a couple times, waiting for someone to expand (No one does. Blaine just mumbles "Sort of" and that's it), because if Kurt had problems with 'Animal', this is the first David is hearing of it.

"You want to tell us what they were? You were pretty vague over the weekend."

"It's not my place." Blaine seems resolute about not making eye contact with anyone for this conversation.

"It wasn't your place to skip school, and, more importantly, _Warblers practice_…" Wes still hadn't let that go. "To drive two hours to Lima to visit an enemy spy but that didn't stop you."

David is pretty sure Wes is muttering under his breath rather angrily (something about never receiving an explanation for the sudden disappearance of an ungrateful soloist) and tries his best not to laugh.

The look that suddenly crosses Blaine's face is pretty sobering. He's hugging that spiral against his chest (Protecting it? Seriously, what is that thing?) and his hazel eyes, which seem to be a million miles away, are sparking with raw anger.

"That was different." Blaine growls, still lost in whatever memories Wes had triggered.

"I don't see how." Wes states crossing his arms over his chest, giving Blaine (who seems to have snapped back into the present) a challenging look.

"What are you talking about?"

"Kurt needs help and you leap in, headfirst. That sounds pretty standard."

Blaine sighs, running his free hand (oh come on! What could be so important about a spiral?) over his face, rubbing his eyes hard, as if doing so will stimulate blood flow to them and help him see more clearly (was that possible? Is that how eyes work? David would have to ask Wes).

"Trouble is, I leap in even when Kurt _doesn't_ need my help."

David raises an eyebrow (a cool trick he'd learned from Kurt) at his friend. Was that it? Blaine being overbearing? And here David had thought something serious was going on.

"Well, of course you do." He states simply.

Blaine stares at his friend, trying to understand how he makes this sound so simple, why he is looking at Blaine as if the Anderson boy had told him the concept of gravity like it was a puzzling new theory.

David rolls his eyes affectionately (condescendingly. Depends on who you ask) and smirks at Blaine.

"Trying to take care of someone who can take care of himself, ignoring every rational thought that tells you to just back off, and lacking the common sense to recognize that you can't _always_ protect him from the world. Sound familiar?"

"David, I don't really…"

Raising a hand, David put a stop to whatever pointless ramble Blaine was sure to go on.

"This will be a lot less painless if you just nod."

Blaine's mouth snaps shut, though his eyes look slightly offended. David just grins in that annoying way he does when things go his way.

"Now, does that sound familiar?" David asks again.

Blaine's jaw tenses as he fights to keep it closed. After winning his internal struggle (or was it losing? How did one determine a victory when fighting with oneself? Another question for Wes), Blaine nods slowly.

"Silly, silly Blainers." David chides, still grinning like the jerk he is. "That just comes with the territory."

"Of what?" Wes questions.

David shoots an incredulous look at his bro; unable to fathom that Wes didn't know. He shakes his head slowly at them both (honestly, what would these people do without him?) and explains what should be so _obvious_.

"Of being in love."

Blaine's mouth opens (vow of silence forgotten) but David isn't in the mood for denial. He holds up his hand again, and speaks firmly (using his council voice. Warbler-mode isn't _all_ bad) effectively steamrolling over whatever his shorter friend had planned to say.

"When you first met Kurt, you took to him like a puppy in heat and pretty much used 'Teenage Dream' to present yourself to him like the flirt-skank you are. Right?"

David points a lethal finger (another handy trick one learned while living with Kurt) at Blaine, who seemed ready to argue.

"Nod." He orders.

Blaine (whose cheeks were on fire due to a fever from a cold he was trying to fight off and for no other reason. Don't listen to Wevid. They're lying) refuses to look up and is plotting the slow and painful demise of his ex-friend and how to make it look like an accident. He really wishes Wes were the one giving him this talk. While the annoyance and embarrassment levels would be the same, at least the wording would be more delicate. What in the hell is a flirt-skank?

Nonetheless, Blaine understands the core message. And, having always strived to be an honest man, he can't deny the truth.

Blaine nods.

"And the only reason Wes and I agreed to meet a certain spy for coffee was because we were sick of hearing about how beautiful he was with his perfect hair, sweet face, soft hands, and _oh, if you had just seen his __**eyes**_. Right?"

Blaine must have been thinking "You're exaggerating" so hard that the words scrawled themselves across his forehead because Wes shoots him a look and shakes his head slowly, clearly saying "No. We're really not."

Hating them both in equal measure now, Blaine nods.

"Endearing was your word, not mine. Correct?"

Blaine nods, apparently having given up the fight.

"After coming back from that trip to Lima, you were in a rage for days because someone was being mean to your precious Kurtsie. Yes?"

That possessive _thing_ in his chest that has been so easily riled up lately stirs yet again. But, it's not angry this time. In fact, the second David implied that Kurt was his, it began purring happily, and spreading a warmth throughout Blaine that he doesn't quite know what to do with. It is certainly a pleasant feeling, despite the memory of the absolute fury that had been there after confronting Karofsky.

He must have nodded because David is talking again.

"When Kurt told you he was transferring, you actually _cabbage-patched_ around your dorm and then spent every waking hour with our fashionable countertenor including, but not limited to, coffee dates, dinner dates, movie dates, study dates, plays, skype, IM-ing, texting, and hours of _no, you hang up first_."

That last one is a lie (ok, one time) and Blaine's not exactly comfortable with how many times the word "Date" was used (but, that's what he'd been calling them so… yeah). Other than that, Blaine can only nod.

"Your favorite classes as of now are Chemistry, English, French, and Home Economics. And the reason for that is a certain pale young man. The same young man that is the sole reason you've been arriving to Warblers practice five minutes early in order to catch him and make sure you get to sit next to him. Right?"

If there is a point Blaine hopes David is going to get there soon.

"Kurt is the first thing you think of when you wake up. Your day doesn't officially start until you've seen him. He has a smile that's just for you. Every time you see it, you feel like you can fly. Because knowing that, knowing that you're special to him, important to him, it suddenly seems like that is your purpose in life. When something good happens, you want to celebrate with him. When something bad happens, you just want his arms around you because that makes the pain go away. This week, you've been feeling like you're drowning. Because being with Kurt is like you are finally able to _breathe_."

Blaine swallows thickly, swallows down all the emotions David has just put into words, letting out a small, choked "yes."

David doesn't chastise Blaine for speaking. Nor does he point out that Wes is quickly wiping his eyes (in a couple hours he'll prance around proudly at being able to melt the heart of Wesley Hughes: cynic extraordinaire but that's beside the point).

"I may not be an expert Blaine but…" There is no teasing in his voice, not one shred. "That sure sounds like love to me."

David undoubtedly had much more to say but Wes (who can read Blaine better. Perks of living together) takes pity on his friend and puts a stop to David's lecture on true love.

The poor hobbit looks like his head is going to explode.

And the important thing (as he would remind David later) is that the point had been made and Blaine would have a lot to think about once he wasn't being interrogated. For now, it is best to drop the subject.

"Let's just focus on the issue at hand, shall we?" He starts out diplomatically.

When he receives nods from his friends, he continues.

"Blaine, I can appreciate you respecting Kurt's privacy but obviously keeping his issues between the two of you hasn't worked out. And whatever you were researching on the computer this weekend was apparently in vain."

"Hold on…" David's eyes dart back and forth as he dons his thinking cap, piecing things together. "You were trying to help Kurt with a sexy number and then looked things up on your computer?"

Blaine starts to panic as he thinks of what his friends could assume he was looking at. Then, with nothing short of absolute terror, he remembers that David has seen his browser history.

He feels like he's going to faint.

Wes, on the other hand, is staring at his bro with great concern. Whatever conclusion he had just come to led David to begin cackling so loudly he is turning heads from the opposite end of the cafeteria, clapping his hands, and even stomping his foot a couple times in absolute hysteria.

Wes considers (not for the first time) having his friend's mental stability tested.

Finally regaining some skills of speech, David points straight at Blaine, making it all too clear whom he is talking to.

"Oh man! That's just _priceless_! I mean I knew you were hot for Kurt from the start but this just takes the freaking cake!"

"Shut. Up. David." Blaine hisses, trying to avoid all the eyes now on his table.

"Now I understand why you needed the whole weekend to yourself. I mean I'm not one to brag…"

"_Since when_?" Even Wes has to call bullshit on that one (as vulgar a term as it is).

David continues talking, undeterred.

"But guys, I _do_ have the hottest roommate at Dalton Academy. Really, it's about time little Blainers sat up and took notice."

There are three separate reactions to David's unintentional (no, seriously. He didn't plan that. It just _happened_) play on words.

David breaks into laughter once more, almost to the point of hyperventilating.

Blaine's face can't decide whether to go ashen or beet red so while shock, horror, humiliation, and nausea run rampant through the rest of his body, blood speedily makes it's way to and from his head which creates a rushing in his ears and a pain above his right eye which feels suspiciously like an aneurism.

And Wes? He finally puts the pieces together.

"You mean you… This weekend you were looking at… And then you… _EWWWW_!"

Blaine glances up at the ceiling, wondering what exactly he has done to so annoy universe and if there is anything he can do to make the punishment stop.

"Well, what else would Blaine think was sexy? "

"I was hoping I'd never know! Never once did it cross my mind that it was our own countertenor that reduced my roommate to a steaming pile of hormones."

David just laughs harder. "God Wes, for the cleverest witch of your age, you sure can be a dumb ass sometimes."

"I swear, I could kill Thad for showing you that confounded video."

"Haters gonna hate."

"For the last time, David, you are not gangster."

"Gang-_sta_."

"Whate-_va_."

Blaine buries his face into his hands, mumbling into his palms. "There has to be a reason I'm friends with you, right? I can't be this much of a masochist."

Wevid scoffs, dismissing Blaine's obvious discomfort (so what else is new). "You love us."

Blaine settles his (for lack of a better word) friends with a wary look slash annoyed glare.

"The simultaneous talking thing has got to stop. It's _beyond_ creepy."

"Don't get off subject Blainers. You should go talk to Kurt."

Blaine moans, burying his head in his arms. "And what exactly do you propose I say?"

"That watching him dance turns you into, as Wes so eloquently put it, a steaming pile of hormones. You want to drag him to the nearest flat surface and have your wicked, wicked way with him. You're a fan of the skinny jeans but you'd like them better if you could rip them from his body with your teeth."

Blaine had brought his arms over his head by this point, hoping that would block out his friend's attempts to scar him for life (not that those ideas weren't appealing… No! Bad Blaine! _Best friend_. Nothing less and certainly nothing more) but he is unsuccessful. "You are incredibly disturbed. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"What? Those are compliments."

"If it's all the same, I'd prefer to compliment him in a way that doesn't make me sound like a sexually frustrated lunatic."

Wes tries to use that button as a way to move on with the discussion but apparently David hadn't read the whole memo about _letting the subject drop_. There really is no talking with that boy when he is aboard the Klaine Train.

"Aw Blainers. You're not a sexually frustrated lunatic. You're just an oblivious, clueless, dense, obtuse hobbit flowing down a river in Egypt who is sexually frustrated."

For all his freaking out during this conversation, Blaine takes this last tidbit in stride. He heaves a sigh before gathering his things.

"And on that flattering note, goodnight gentlemen. I'm off to find some brain bleach in the hopes of erasing all memory of this _delightful_ encounter."

But as he stood to go, his hand lingers on the spiral, as if he meant to pick it up but then thought better of it.

David watches with avid attention as the key to the mystery he'd been secretly obsessing over all day is passed to Wes.

The head councilman's eyes fell onto the notebook in his hands, confused as to why Blaine would be asking for help with his math homework now, of all times. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to turn his friend away and went to flip open the notebook and get started.

Blaine's hand slams down on top of it, keeping the spiral firmly closed (and nearly breaking Wes's fingers. He'd pulled away just in time).

"Don't!" Blaine very nearly pulls the spiral away but manages to push down that instinct. Swallowing thickly (hoping he wasn't royally messing up yet again) Blaine gently nudges the notebook closer to Wes.

"Don't open it. Just… give it to Kurt. It's his. I took it by mistake."

"Why can't you…"

"Please Wes? It should be you. Give it back to him. Don't look in it but try to get him to show you himself. Tell him… tell him you want to hear what he has to say."

Wes wants to ask what this is all about, but decides to just trust his roommate.

He takes the spiral gently, handling it with as much care as he can, not missing the grateful look Blaine shoots him on the way out.

David lets out a deep breath, watching their friend walk out of the cafeteria.

"Well, that went well."

Wes isn't sure how much sarcasm is in there. He's not sure how much would be accurate.

"You think he'll actually listen to anything we said?"

Wes shrugs, looking down at the spiral in his lap, wondering if him having it was Blaine running away or proof that Blaine hadn't needed their advice after all.

"Hard to tell with interventions." He finally answers. "Let's just hope our little hobbit does _something_. And soon."

David gives his bromantic partner a long look, trying to figure him out. "I thought you said Klaine had lost their chance?"

"And I stand by that. They've been going round and round, both too scared of getting hurt or hurting the other and I think they've only hurt themselves worse by never finding out if it was worth the risk. No guts no glory, if you will."

Wes had stood from the table by now, cradling that spiral against his chest, intrigue already peaked, knowing that loyalty to Blaine alone would be what kept him from peeking inside. He'd always been interested in the new transfer's perspective but the boy had seemed reluctant to share with anyone aside from Blaine. Of course, David would argue that Wes isn't exactly a people person (which Wes resents quite a bit. One did not become head councilman of the Warblers without great public relations skills) and didn't exactly inspire others to confide in him.

David, quickly throwing out his and Wes's uneaten dinner, joins the other boy on the trek back to the dorms.

"But…" He prods, since Wes is taking far too long to complete his thought.

"_But_…" Wes sighs, knowing he is going to regret admitting this. "If Kurt and Blaine want to prove me wrong, I'm certainly not gong to stop them."

Just as Wevid was to part ways, David grins at Wes in that mischievous way of his but with a tenderness in there, somewhere that both boys will deny the existence of.

"D'aww Wesley, you big softie!"

Wes rolls his eyes, bids David goodnight, and walks off to his and Blaine's room.

"You can't run from your feelings Wes! I _know _I made you cry when I was lecturing our little hobbit on matters of the heart!"

"Whatever you need to believe David."

Wes has unlocked his door and is halfway into his room just as he hears the shout of…

"ATTENTION DALTON ACADEMY! WESLEY ADRIAN HUGHES, HEAD COUNCILMAN OF THE WARBLERS AND SOON-TO-BE-VALEDICTORIAN IS A SAPPY ROMANTIC!"

Wes shuts the door behind him just as someone else emerges from their room to strangle David (he'll be fine. He runs fast).

Blaine is already on his bed in only his undershirt and Dalton slacks, curls set free from the gel prison, working on something or another, so Wes situates himself on his own bed (he is never touching the desk or that chair ever again) and begins his own studies.

A comfortable silence settles over the room, only interrupted twice by Wes's phone indicating one text (_Kurt kicked me out again. :( Having a Starkid marathon with Thad. You in? There's a Red Vine here with your name on it. ;) – David_) and one email (entitled _Forward this to Blainers. Trust me!_). Wes declines the offer in the text and sets the email aside for later, trying not to notice Blaine snatching his own phone, looking ecstatic at the sound of a received message only to be devastated when it wasn't his.

After finishing his homework (or giving up on focusing) Blaine declares a need for air. It's not quite curfew yet and boxing Blaine in has never done the boy any good. So Wes doesn't do anything to stop him. Grabbing his phone and headphones Blaine sets out into the empty halls of Dalton.

He wanders, not really having a destination, just trying to keep himself from thinking so much.

He can still hear David's urging, Wes's skepticism, Mercedes's pep talk, Finn's criticism, and that thing in his chest is restless and has decided that constricting around Blaine's heart whenever a certain best friend crosses his mind will somehow direct the soloist in the direction of the countertenor (he is half tempted to do so just so the ache will stop. Kurt always did make the pain go away) and Blaine's just too tired to try and reign in his thoughts and just lets them roam, in the hopes that given this freedom, they will leave him be.

It works to a certain extent. Finn's words hurt a little less than before and Mercedes' drowns him out and fills Blaine with hope that this is still just a rough patch, that it won't last forever. He clings to that.

Wes's cynical, unforgiving thoughts are battled by David's optimism and blind faith. Soon the internal Wevid is back and pestering Blaine about something he has shoved so far to the back of his mind that he cannot fully recall what it is. Knowing Wevid's persistence, it won't be long before he remembers. He's just not sure he wants to. Anytime they speak up, he lets their shouting flow away, hoping that will be the end of it.

Yes, it's running away.

No, he can't do it forever.

Yes, he's getting tired of trying.

No, he's not quite ready to stop yet.

Yes, he is getting quite tired of it just the same.

Yes, he would like it very much if you just butted out and let him deal with this at his own pace.

_Fine. Be that way._

He ends up in the Warbler practice room just as his phone goes off signaling an email.

By now he knows better than to hope it is Kurt responding to one of the messages he has sent the pale boy today. He knows better, but that doesn't stop his heart from sinking when he sees Wes's name. But, ignoring a message just because it didn't come from whom you want is rude. So Blaine unlocks his screen and finds the message was forwarded and is actually from David.

_Figured you needed to hear his voice. You're welcome! – David_

This is probably only going to cause him more harm than good and totally defeats his original goal of not thinking.

However, that doesn't make David's words any less true.

Plugging in his headphones, Blaine plays the video, looking away from the screen as soon as he sees the cheerleading uniform (he's just not going to go there).

As the piano opens the song, Blaine notices his current position. Without even realizing it, Blaine sat himself on the loveseat.

_Their_ loveseat.

He hasn't sat here since last Friday's meeting, when he'd proposed a more sultry approach to Regionals, arguing his point against the council and then taking his seat beside Kurt.

Did something happen to it since then? It's a lot less comfortable now.

"**A chair is still a chair  
><strong>**Even when there's no one sitting there"**

He remembers sleeping on it during a Warbler weekend sleepover. He and Kurt had shared the space, neither keen on sleeping on the floor.

"**But a chair is not a house  
><strong>**And a house is not a home"**

That was the first time Blaine had woken up next to Kurt. He had his arms wrapped tightly around the pale boy who was snuffling softly in his sleep, nuzzling deeper into Blaine's chest.

"**When there's no one there  
><strong>**To hold you tight"**

The loveseat hadn't been uncomfortable then. In fact, Blaine distinctly remembers never wanting to leave that spot. It had become his favorite place.

What had changed since then?

"**And no one there  
><strong>**You can kiss goodnight"**

Blaine lays himself out on the couch, trying to recapture what is currently missing in the dark space.

"**A room is still a room  
><strong>**Even when there's nothing there but gloom"**

Why can't he find it?

"**But a room is not a house  
><strong>**And a house is not a home"**

Blaine crosses his arms over his chest. They feel strangely empty.

"**When the two of us are far apart"**

His internal Wevid seems to be giving him the silent treatment. Whatever beast has decided to set up camp in his chest is quiet now, save for a type of pathetic whimpering every time his arms tighten around empty air (it's maddening! Something is supposed to be there. Something precious. Something _special_) and he doesn't even hear Mercedes egging him on anymore.

Without all the voices, Blaine is made very aware of the emptiness in this room.

He wishes Kurt was actually singing to him. Blaine really hates being alone.

And Blaine hates the idea of _Kurt_ being alone even more.

"**And one of us has a broken heart"**

Blaine closes his eyes, trying to think of happier times. He thinks back to the last time he'd had that contented, safe, warm feeling.

"**Now and then  
><strong>**I call your name"**

_Kurt._

"**And suddenly your face appears"**

That toothless little smile.

The blush that spreads across his face at the tiniest compliment.

His elegant, sassy eyebrows.

The way his eyelashes fan against his cheek with each blink.

The way he claps when he's excited.

The strength Blaine can feel beneath the layers when he puts a hand on Kurt's biceps or pats his leg.

The way his bangs swoop over his forehead when he's asleep, before there is any product, taking off the edge years of suffering have put upon the boy, making him gentler.

The times they have fallen asleep together (eight) always ending with Blaine cradling Kurt against his chest, relishing in the other boy's warmth. How, when he shifts due to a shadow that too closely resembles a main player in a recent nightmare, the sleeping boy's arms curl around Blaine's waist, pulling them closer together, and how he murmurs soft, comforting nothings until Blaine is convinced that he's safe enough to fall back asleep. How Blaine is content to just lay awake in the morning with Kurt beside him, listening to and memorizing all the little sleepy sounds the boy in his arms makes.

Kurt gives a happy hum during good dreams. The same way he hums when he laughs.

When he laughs at their table at the Lima Bean with his back to the window, framed by fresh fallen snow, his blue eyes shine making Blaine forget that it's winter and that he's supposed to be cold. The fact that Kurt can still laugh despite how unfair the universe has been to him.

In spite of _everything_, Kurt is still _Kurt_. Blaine never forgets to be grateful for that.

Because that day on the staircase, it had seemed like Kurt had found Blaine just when he needed someone the most.

But now? Blaine thinks he was found by whom he'd needed all along.

"**But it's just a crazy game"**

Yes, it's a scary thought. Terrifying actually. To be so dependent on one other person. To be this much of a mess without him. The pain they could cause each other. The fact that, if this riff is so unbearable, actual separation might kill him. The fear. The doubt. The vulnerability Blaine had promised he would never show.

"**And when it ends  
><strong>**It ends in tears"**

Loving Kurt is worth all of it.

"**So darling"**

Blaine is on his feet before he's even fully accepted that thought. He is running towards the Windsor building when he realizes that, unlike all the other thoughts he's been having and dismissing, this isn't fading.

_I love Kurt._

In fact, it's getting stronger. He tries to find the voice that's saying it.

"I love Kurt."

Only to realize it's his own.

"**Have a heart"**

Blaine hurls himself up the stairs that lead to the dorms, tripping over himself, heart hammering, lungs pumping but he's just not going fast enough.

Because he should have been running like this before.

This past weekend.

All those trips to the Lima Bean.

After Rachel's party.

On Valentine's Day.

At Christmas.

One of the times he'd had Kurt in his arms so he wouldn't have had to run at all.

When he'd taken a hold of Kurt's hand on the staircase, he never should have let go.

"**Don't let one mistake keep us apart"**

Blaine's feet are pounding on the carpeted hallways of the dorms and he doesn't care if he wakes up all of Dalton as long as he gets there.

The whole way, he's begging the universe for one more chance. He's had so many but had been too blind, too afraid, too _whatever it doesn't matter now_ and he knows he has no right to ask for another but the universe had better not pick now to suddenly be fair.

"**Well I'm not meant to live alone"**

Finally, finally, _finally _he's at the door, banging on it with his fist for all he's worth, still begging

"**Turn this house into a home  
><strong>**When I climb the stairs  
><strong>**And turn the key"**

Just one more chance. Please. That's all he needs. He won't mess this one up. Please, just let him in so he can take that brave, gorgeous, wonderful, _special _boy in his arms and make it abundantly clear that he is cherished and valued and _loved_. Please, don't let him lock Blaine out. Not now. Not when they're so close. Please don't say he's too late. Just one more chance. That's all he asks. Please, Kurt. Please open the door. Please don't be out of Blaine's reach. Pleas please please please pleasepleaseplease…

"**Oh please be there"**

The door opens.

Please Kurt. Please be…

"Blaine?"

"**Still in love with me"**

* * *

><p><em>...<em>

_I think I have a problem when it comes to cliff hangers. Is there a support group for this?_

_Leave a review if you caught David letting out his inner Santana (yeah, cause that was the main thing that happened in this chapter)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Here we are. The final chapter. Can you guys believe we're here? Me neither. it's incredibly long. Hope ya'll don't mind. ;)_

_But first, I was horribly remiss when it came to reviews last time._

_PED: Your review made me smile and you just came up with the greatest phrase I've ever heard and I hope you won't mind that I borrowed it. Same story as the YouTube comment. I will remove it if you're uncomfortable but I felt it deserved to be shared._

_XXHOPELESSXXXROMANTICXX: Flaming pitchforks are terrifying and I felt the hot pokers at the back of my neck until this was finished. So… thanks for the encouragement! ;)_

_ALE-ALI16: *blushes* It's nice to be missed. :) And since you say you never leave a review I want to doubly thank you for the one you left me._

_NUMBER1KURTHUMMELFAN: I'm so sorry! Apologize to your sister for me. Tell her the meanie author didn't intend to make her sister cry. I now provide the closing chapter in the hopes of making up for all the cliffhangers I put not only her but all my readers through. She sounds like a sweet girl. ;)_

_ICLEMEYERLOVER: That was one of the most touching reviews I've ever received. Thank you so much. I can't explain what it means to know how much my story has affected you._

_1GLEEFAN: My darling buddy. Your review was so beautiful and nearly moved me to tears. It was the perfect net to fall onto from my cliff and I was just wrapped so warmly in the blankets of your love and loyalty. Thank you._

_I wish I could take the time to thank each and every one of you for everything you've said. Please know that every review I receive is treasured and loved and re-read often. Thank you all for your support and encouragement._

_This final chapter is dedicated to my spectacular Twin MUSICALSARELIFE. Without her, this chapter wouldn't exist at all. Thank her by going to read her stuff. You can find her in my favorite authors._

_Ok, I now present, *drum roll* KURT HUMMEL!_

__DISCLAIMER: Oh no, I totally have legal claims to Glee. I'm currently writing the scenes between Blaine and his sister (played by my incredibly talented twin) and all my stories are actually deleted scenes that will be released with the DVD's. (Note my blatant use of sarcasm)__

* * *

><p>Sealing the last lid on the last jar of his nightly skin routine, Kurt Hummel glances into the mirror (the same mirror he had been practicing sultry faces in little more than twenty-four hours ago), studying his rejuvenated skin, scrutinizing his appearance with a type of self-criticism that takes years to cultivate.<p>

Too often for his comfort, Kurt's eyes drift to one of the drawers of his vanity.

It's like he can hear the pamphlets yelling for his attention.

Which is ridiculous because he _read them already_.

If Burt Hummel succeeds at one thing, it is follow-through.

Kurt loves his father dearly for stepping out of his comfort zone and getting this information and doing this despite the awkwardness and Kurt's resistance. After all, this had been exactly what he'd asked for after Rachel's party when his dad had found Blaine in Kurt's bed. Kurt meant what he said when he asked his dad to educate himself so that he could come to Burt for guidance about this.

He just hadn't meant _now_.

Honestly, where had this urgency for the Talk come from anyway? Kurt had been concerned when his dad had come into the kitchen because he looked (for lack of a better word) scared. Like something was going to happen to Kurt. When his dad laid out the pamphlets, it wasn't hard to figure out just what he thought was going to happen to his son.

But where would his dad get such an idea?

Did he think Kurt was going to get drunk at some party and go off with a stranger or something ridiculous like that? _Please_! Kurt is smarter than that.

And, contrary to popular belief, he's not that desperate.

Kurt sighs, wondering whether his dad (or Blaine for that matter. Seriously, what were the odds of having two Talks in one day?) had given any thought as to why Kurt was so reluctant to learn about sexual relations.

He's not afraid of it. Not in the least. Parts of it are weird to him and he's not fond of the idea of getting down and dirty but he wasn't going to go through life completely ignorant just to avoid some discomfort.

And he never planned to throw himself around. Kurt knew he wanted to wait until he was ready, until he was with the right guy (his talk with his dad had only reinforced this plan). When he felt he was ready, Kurt was going to get all the information he needed, maybe even learn with the boy he was going to give everything to.

Kurt always intended to educate himself. He just didn't want to do it now.

It isn't _relevant_ now.

Burt Hummel wants his son to make that deep connection with the right person. Kurt wants that too. But his dad is throwing all these pamphlets at him and talking to Kurt all weekend like he thinks Kurt already has a stash of condoms under his bed and one in his wallet for the sake of spontaneity. Like he thinks Kurt actually _has_ that special person.

Well, that's just not the case. Kurt is just as single as he's always been.

Finn is his stepbrother. Sam is as straight as can be (despite that hair). Blaine has made himself abundantly clear.

And it's not like the fact isn't constantly rubbed in his face as it is.

The basement incident. The duet competition. This weekend.

Just once, Kurt would like to be rejected and _not_ have it end in a confrontation with his father.

At that pleasant thought, Kurt is back to studying himself in his mirror, noting all the ways he stands out, trying to remember that these make him special, only really able to recall the pain it causes him.

He sighs, knowing he can't prolong his Sunday any longer, and climbs into bed, absolutely dreading school tomorrow.

Dalton is safe. Kurt will forever be grateful for that, for being able to go to school without fear.

Dalton is also boring. The traditions are uninspiring. The uniforms are repressive. The entire Warbler democracy (so called) hears the group but drowns out the individual. For Prada's sake, the harmonies make it so a person can't even hear his _own_ voice.

Most of the time, Kurt just wants to _scream_. But he can't.

Because his only other option than this gilded cage is a prison where nearly everyone is out for his blood.

The choice is obvious. As much as it feels like it, conforming won't kill him.

A buzzing from his bedside table yanks Kurt into the present. He grabs at his phone, reading the message he's just received.

_Kurtsie! Wes is keeping secrets from me about Blainers. We cannot let this stand! May I threaten him with something from your side of the bathroom? – David_

Since all that is currently in Kurt's bathroom at Dalton is some mint toothpaste, he sees no harm in letting David continue with his madness.

_Sure. Just remember, we need him alive. – K_

Why ruin his fun, right? At least someone is enjoying himself tonight.

_Thanks Kurtsie! Don't worry. I'll torture the answers out of Wes. Then, once we know what's wrong with your boyfriend, you can kiss it all better. ;) – David_

Kurt doesn't dignify that with an answer, putting his phone back on its charger and turning away from it.

But the damage has been done. Kurt sighs, staring at the blank wall opposite him.

Blaine Anderson.

What in the name of Patti LuPone had happened?

Kurt groans unhappily. He knows exactly what happened. He just can't believe he's been this stupid.

Confessing his feelings to Blaine had been a mistake. Ever since Valentine's Day, Kurt can feel the tension growing thicker between them. They've grown closer as friends but there is still something that keeps Blaine from being at total ease with Kurt like he used to be.

And it seems that Kurt is completely incapable of keeping his feelings for Blaine out of any interaction with the other boy. He can't stop blushing at little touches. Can't stop his heart from fluttering when he hears the soloist's voice. Can't stop dreaming about hazel eyes. Can't stop craving coffee because he's come to associate it with Blaine.

He can't even stop his feelings from getting in the way when it comes to arguments.

And here, Kurt takes a moment to berate himself for his behavior over this weekend.

He had barely gotten Blaine back after the alcohol/Rachel Berry/bisexual debacle and then he kicks Blaine out of his house?

Is he _trying _to lose his best friend?

Kurt heaves a heavy sigh, flipping onto his back and staring up at his ceiling.

That's just it, isn't it?

Blaine is only ever going to be Kurt's friend. And if Kurt doesn't learn to be content with it, he's going to lose it.

Curling in on himself, attempting to find sleep, Kurt knows what he has to do. Feeling sick to his stomach and an all too familiar ache in his heart, Kurt accepts that the time has come.

The time to get over Blaine Anderson.

Of course, as Kurt finds out that Monday morning, this is easier said than done.

After a full night of trying to let go of those feelings (sleep eluded him like the cruel mistress she is), Kurt takes one look at Blaine in the common room and feels them all come rushing back.

He rushes out to his first class because if he feels this strongly just by catching a glance of Blaine, he's not going to stand a chance if he actually talks to the other boy.

So he starts avoiding Blaine.

Again, easier said than done.

Blaine looks so hurt and all Kurt wants to do is run over to him and gather the curly-haired boy into a hug until he smiles again.

But, even if the text conversation from Saturday indicates that their friendship is just fine, it can't go on this way.

_Kurt_ can't go on this way.

The week doesn't get any easier. Although, when the first day of moving on from Blaine ends with being pinned beneath said boy, Kurt doesn't know why he expected anything to get _better_.

He asks for space but Blaine seems determined to save their friendship. While Kurt appreciates the effort and is actually relieved to hear that he means that much to Blaine (even if it's not the way he wants to), their friendship is fine. Once Kurt is able to get over his feelings, he will go right back to his role of best friend without it destroying him a little inside (yes, trying not to care about Blaine the way he does is destroying him _a lot_ inside but that's beside the point), so Blaine just needs to learn when to back off.

And then that damn journal gets in the way of everything.

Blaine stands there and tells Kurt that his opinion matters and could be voiced and looks so confused as to why Kurt is upset and Kurt just can't take it anymore.

He finally screams like he's been dying to do since he transferred.

Except it doesn't make anything better.

He still feels like he's suffocating, like he's going to explode, like he's coming apart at the seams.

Blaine won't let him leave. He keeps getting in the way, keeps trying to talk it out.

Why can't anyone leave him alone? Why couldn't the bullies at McKinley let him be? Why did Karofsky force Kurt to deal with his self-hatred? Why couldn't Finn let him sing with Sam? Why did New Directions force religion down his throat when his father was dying? Why did Mercedes have to try to make Kurt feel guilty when he'd finally found someone who understood? Why couldn't Dalton make him feel safe _and_ free?

Why can't he sing? He just wants to _sing_. Why is that too much to ask for?

Kurt tries to run, needing just one moment to himself, just one moment when he doesn't have to put up a mask of contentedness.

Blaine grabs his arm and Kurt sees red.

Why couldn't Blaine just let Kurt go? Why did he insist on having this hold on Kurt? Couldn't he just let Kurt get over him in peace? Why did he insist on talking about this when there was just no point?

He lashes out. He strikes Blaine.

He regrets it immediately but that doesn't take it back.

Kurt wants to reach out to Blaine. All he wants is to be at his best friend's side.

He runs instead. Because everything is crumbling and Kurt really just needs to be alone.

He needs to be alone so he can just _break_. Then he can put himself back together again to face another day.

It's the only way he's been able to survive this long.

Kurt has become an expert at covering his cracks and chips. No one ever sees the lasting damage that's been done to him. A bitter fraction of him thinks that no one tries.

No one until Blaine.

Maybe that's why Kurt fell so hard for him. Maybe that's why they're such good friends.

It's definitely why Kurt can't be around Blaine right now.

Kurt spends most of that night locked in the bathroom he and David share, trying not to look at his shattered reflection.

By the time his roommate returns from dinner, Kurt has washed away the fractures and reassembled the broken pieces, holding them together with his moisturizers and lotions. With cold detachment (if he has no feelings, nothing can hurt them), he bids his roommate goodnight and settles into bed, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

The universe once again denies a simple request of Kurt Hummel and the porcelain boy awakes, rested but drained.

The rest of the day passes at a dull but speedy pace. Blaine doesn't approach Kurt again.

It's the respite that Kurt needs (more time to smooth the edges of his broken shards) but he still owes Blaine a proper apology. At the very least, Blaine deserves a solid reason as to why Kurt is avoiding the other boy.

He's not sure he can tell Blaine the real reason but he's never lied to Blaine before and isn't about to start now.

He still hasn't decided on what exactly to say when he almost trips over Blaine in the cafeteria during dinner. But, holding his head high, Kurt decides to start with the apology and see where it goes from there.

He's just about to get Blaine's attention when he sees a journal.

_His_ journal.

The journal he told Blaine to destroy.

Apparently, Blaine thinks _destroy_ means _study like Holy Scripture_.

And Kurt just knows that when he sits down, Blaine will want to talk about it.

The only thing that has kept Kurt from snapping and burning Dalton to the ground has been using that journal as a hidden catharsis.

Having ideas that no one gets to see is easier then ideas no one wants to hear.

Blaine (the one who implanted the idea that Kurt needed to blend to fit in, in the first place) dragging Kurt's ideas out for public discussion (rejection) is just too much.

Kurt is halfway back to his dorm when his shock ebbs away, replaced by determined rage.

Blaine wants Kurt to voice his opinions?

Fine. Then that's just what he'll do.

Arriving at his dorm, Kurt decides that the first thing to go will be this damn uniform.

Kurt opens his closet and pulls out his scarves and ties and lapel pins and brooches. Then he goes into his bathroom and grabs every hair product he can carry and his makeup bag.

Laying these things on his bed, Kurt then goes to his beside table, opens the drawer and extracts his copy of Dalton Academy for Boys Book of Rules and Guidelines.

Kurt thought the idea laughable at first. Then he grew to abhor the book as much as the restrictions that lay within.

Now? It may just prove to be a map to freedom.

Kurt flips it open, turning pages violently until he stumbles upon uniform requirements.

The best way to begin any work of art is with a blank canvas. So Kurt sheds his blazer, rips the tie from his neck, steps out of his shoes and socks and begins undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, going over the description of proper dress with a fine tooth comb.

He has to wear the school issued blazer but there is nothing stated about tailoring this blazer to a more fashionable style. Nothing is said about the tie except that one must be worn. Maybe Kurt can exchange the Dalton tie for one of his own. Scarves aren't part of the list of appropriate attire but they aren't explicitly forbidden. Kurt knows there's a loophole in there somewhere.

The book says absolutely nothing about shoes. It's like Christmas came early.

Using both his bed and David's, Kurt lays out different combinations, picking out different shirts to wear beneath his blazer, and incorporating different accoutrements. Kurt also makes notes of articles that have been left in Lima for far too long.

Half these outfits probably aren't allowed and he will most likely be told to remove the personal items but Kurt couldn't care less by this point. He is through bending over backwards to please this place.

Dalton accepted Kurt Hummel and Kurt Hummel is exactly what it's going to get.

Suddenly, David is just outside the dorm and is yelling about something or other. Kurt can't be bothered to keep specifics.

All he knows is that while this project of his is incredibly liberating, it is not a calming process.

If anything he's more worked up than ever and has no patience for David's antics.

Kurt makes quick work of telling David that it is in his best interest to spend the evening elsewhere before returning to the rulebook to see what it says about hair.

And styling his hair actually _is_ a calming process for Kurt, so as he runs his fingers through his brown locks, his pounding heart slows and his breathing returns to normal. Which is why he is doubly annoyed when there is a steady pounding on his door as someone demands entrance.

Without thinking, Kurt opens the door, sharp remark dying on his tongue in an instant.

"Blaine?"

Given his current temper, Kurt would not have wasted a second tearing into whoever had decided to disturb him. And even Blaine would have gotten a heavy dose of snark under normal circumstances.

But the look on Blaine's face stops Kurt dead.

He's never seen Blaine wear that look before.

Kurt is distracted for a brief second because the faintest strains of music are coming from somewhere and he just wants to be sure he's not the only one hearing it.

Blaine, seeming to snap into himself, pulls his headphones out of his ears, pocketing them, and putting an end to the mystery of the Music From Nowhere.

Kurt doesn't go back to annoyance, instead transitioning into confusion.

Blaine was taking a stroll, listening to music, and then decided to pound on Kurt's door like the world was ending?

"_Kurt_."

The countertenor doesn't know what to do with the happy, relived sigh that just left Blaine. Nor does he have any idea what it is supposed to mean when Blaine said his name like _that_.

"Um… Hey." Blaine says awkwardly, smiling the way he does when he's unsure of himself.

"Hi." Kurt returns, eyeing his friend curiously.

Blaine swallows thickly, his mouth working fruitlessly to make a sound.

Kurt takes mercy on him and opens the door further.

"Come on in."

Blaine nods eagerly and steps into the dorm, wringing his hands, looking so nervous. At least, he does until he takes in the state of Kurt's room. For a moment, whatever is bothering Blaine seems to leave his mind as he surveys Kurt's work-in-progress splattered across the beds.

Kurt clears his throat, not in the mood to be judged.

"Blaine, what's going on?"

It seems to take the soloist a moment to remember Kurt beside him. The pale boy rolls his eyes at Blaine's short attention span (something both annoying and adorable about the other boy) and puts his hands on his hips and giving Blaine an expectant look.

But Blaine's eyes aren't focused on Kurt. At least not on his face. Blaine's hazel orbs are staring wide-eyed at Kurt's chest.

Confused (and irritated at being interrupted than ignored), Kurt followed the other boy's gaze, gasping when he saw his own bare skin.

Kurt is still wearing his white, long-sleeved button-up but the thin shirt is hanging loose and open on him. And, putting his hands on his hips had only pushed the shirt open further, fully exposing Kurt's torso.

A pink flush working steadily across his cheeks and up his neck, Kurt turns to the side, hiding himself from Blaine's eyes just as the soloist seems to remember his manners, his head snapping to the side, mumbling curses to himself (Kurt guesses for ungentlemanly conduct. It is rude to gawk, after all).

Kurt has his own string of mental curses running on loop as he begins to re-button his shirt. He had done up the third one down when he stops. Setting his jaw, Kurt takes a moment to rein in his anger.

This is _his_ room, damn it!

If how Kurt conducts himself in the privacy of his own room makes Blaine uncomfortable, he can _leave_!

Kurt drops his hands from his shirt and whips around on Blaine, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

"What part of _not now_ isn't getting through to you, Blaine?"

Blaine seems taken aback by the sudden change in Kurt's tone. "Kurt, I…"

But, Kurt decides he's not quite finished yet.

"What could possibly be so important that it can't wait until morning?"

"I'm…"

"And why is it so dire that you talk to me right now despite me _repeatedly_ asking for space…"

"Kurt, let me just…"

"And ignoring the state of my room clearly indicating that I am _busy_! What oh so significant thought has entered the head of Blaine Anderson tonight that he can't keep to himself for a couple of hours? What could be so remarkable that you need to bang on my door until I listen? What could you possibly need to share with me that…"

"I told your dad to give you the sex talk!"

Blaine (who cannot fathom why, of all things, he had to blurt that) tenses, obviously waiting for an explosion.

He isn't disappointed.

"_**YOU WHAT**_?"

"I just…"

"YOU JUST WHAT? LOST YOUR MIND?"

"I just wanted to help."

"IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS THAT CONSIDERED HELPING?"

"Please, Kurt, calm down."

"_I AM CALM_!"

Blaine just keeps his mouth shut about that one.

Kurt sucks in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I am calm." He says through gritted teeth.

Blaine waits another few moments before speaking again. Just in case.

"I was worried about you."

"Because I couldn't be sexy?"

"Because you didn't know anything about sex. I didn't want you to be taken advantage of."

A dry humorless chuckle escapes Kurt. "You know, I'm really sick of being your charity case, Blaine."

"What?"

"You heard me! I am _not_ some helpless, lost little boy who needs you to hold my hand all the time! And where do you get off telling my dad to teach me about sex? Did you not hear me when I said I didn't want to talk about it? Or did you just not care?"

"Kurt, _please_! I…"

"You say you didn't want me to be taken advantage of? As kind and noble a thought as that is, it's completely impractical. I'm not in any danger. I don't plan on putting myself in danger."

"I know you're careful but…"

"And I know better than to throw myself around. What you and my dad seem insistent on ignoring is the fact that there's no one to throw myself at."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, Blaine! What's the whole reason you and I started talking about sex at all? Baby penguin, remember? It'll be a long time before I find someone."

Kurt looks down to the floor, trying to keep all the times he'd been dismissed from flashing before him.

"If I ever do." He mumbles to himself, not intending anyone to hear.

"_What_?" Blaine does anyway.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the fight leaving him by the second.

The fight he needs to continue with his mission of getting himself back.

"Nothing. Just go Blaine. We'll talk tomorrow."

"No! Tell me what you just said." Blaine's fight, it seems, is only getting stronger.

Kurt shakes his head. "It's not important."

"Then tell me you don't mean it."

Kurt winces at that. What is it about Blaine that always makes him feel all his broken pieces?

Blaine surges forward when Kurt doesn't answer, placing his hands on the other boy's shoulders.

"Kurt, you have to know that isn't true. _Nothing_ you've been saying lately is true. Please, tell me you know that."

The porcelain boy begins trembling. Kurt holds his breath, crosses his arms tighter across himself, and screws his eyes shut. He is breaking again and needs Blaine to leave so he can hold himself together.

Blaine proposes another solution.

Kurt is suddenly crushed against Blaine's chest, Blaine's strong arms cradling him like he's something precious. He buries his face into the crook between the other boy's neck and shoulder just as Blaine presses his nose into Kurt's hair, his lips hovering just over Kurt's ear.

They both are silent until the shaking subsides, Blaine never relenting in the fierceness of his embrace. Kurt has never felt closer to being whole.

Having his emotions back under control, Kurt knows he should pull back. He doesn't have the right to ask Blaine to hold him like this just for the sake of doing it. Blaine doesn't belong to him.

And he certainly doesn't belong to Blaine.

Yet Kurt still lingers, because although it hurts to think about, he can't help but love how well they fit together.

As long as Blaine doesn't push him away, Kurt is content to just stay here.

"I was scared."

Kurt tilts his head against Blaine's shoulder at his whisper. He would have looked the other boy in the eye but Blaine's arms had tightened significantly before his words.

Obviously he wants Kurt to stay where he is.

"All I could think about was someone hurting you. And the idea that someone could _kills_ me. I can't protect you from Karofsky or the bullies but I thought I could protect you from this. And not because you're some _pet project_."

Blaine spits the term like it's vile, as if it disgusts him.

Kurt feels a little guilty for implying such a thing given how much the concept bothers Blaine.

"It's because I care about you. So much, Kurt. You have no idea how important you are to me."

Again, Blaine's arms tighten and he buries his nose deeper into Kurt's hair, as if the boy will disappear if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

Kurt lets himself be pulled close. He would have returned the show of affection but being pinned against Blaine means that his arms are trapped between them (small price to pay).

Instead, Kurt presses deeper into Blaine's shoulder.

"I know Blaine. I know you were just looking out for me. You're my best friend and you just wanted me to be safe. I'm sorry I…"

"Don't you _dare_ apologize anymore."

Blaine tilts his head back enough for Kurt to be able to look the other boy in the eye without breaking their embrace.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize." Blaine's voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Kurt searches the hazel eyes (they're so close he can count the flecks of green in them) because there's that look again. A look he's never seen Blaine wear. A look he can't believe is focused on him of all people.

Blaine sucks in a shaky breath before speaking but his voice is now anything but. His words are steady and strong with conviction, leaving no room for argument.

"You are the most remarkable person I've ever met. You're so brave and compassionate and _beautiful_ and your ideas blow me away and as well as I know you, there's always something new to discover and I want to spend everyday being surprised by you. There's no one else like you. I want everyone to see that but at the same time, I just want to keep you all to myself. I mean, I would never keep you from doing anything you wanted and I know you're ready to show the world exactly who you are. And I know once you find the spotlight it won't have the heart to ever leave you. I can't blame it because I don't think I can get through a single day without you anymore. I just hope you'll still want me by your side when everyone else finally sees you. And they will. I promise. You are astonishing and spectacular and awesome and I'm going to need to make up a word because these aren't doing you justice. You're…"

Blaine sighs, his eyes darting back and forth as he searches for the word that will convey everything he's thinking.

Kurt, although in possession of an impressive vocabulary, is too stunned to offer any help.

Blaine leans his forehead against Kurt's; looking deep into the other boy's eyes and soon all either boy sees is glasz or hazel.

"You are so _special_ Kurt. That is the most amazing thing about you."

A type of ache fills Blaine's eyes, one that Kurt can almost feel himself.

A calloused but warm hand reaches up and Kurt's breath hitches as he feels the brush of skin, the backs of Blaine's fingers caressing the porcelain cheek.

"And I am _so sorry_ I ever made you feel otherwise."

There is a moment of silence between them, the tension thrumming through their veins.

Then Blaine is dropping his hand and his gaze and his arm is loosening from around the countertenor and Kurt instantly feels empty without him.

Blaine is just about to turn away but Kurt Hummel has never been one to let someone else have the last word. And Blaine is not getting away from him this time.

Because even though he's never seen that look on Blaine before, he's worn it enough times to recognize it.

Kurt places a hand on Blaine's upper arm, waiting for the shorter boy to face him before cupping Blaine's jaw with his other hand.

And Kurt takes a moment to steel himself. He's offered his heart so many times only to have it returned to him as damaged goods. Each time he is stomped on, it takes longer to repair the harm. It's a wonder there's anything left at all. And there's only so much he can take. Kurt knows that if he offers it now, this will be the last time.

Whatever Blaine's reaction, if Kurt gives his heart now, he won't ever get it back.

And yet, all he can think is that Blaine Anderson is so, _so_ worth it.

Kurt leans forward, brushing his lips against the corner of Blaine's mouth, trying to memorize how perfectly his jaw fits against Kurt's hand and how he smells of coffee and cinnamon and fresh laundry.

Blaine on the other hand, feels his eyes slide shut as he positively melts at the brief touch. He breathes deep, the way he's only come close to being able to do when he's with Kurt. His ears are ringing but there's something else.

Song lyrics he's heard a million times.

_I kinda wanna be more than friends… I want the world to see you be with me… Love isn't silly at all… I thrill when you touch my hand_

Somehow, this is the first time they really make sense.

Wait, why was Kurt pulling away? Come back.

"Blaine Darren Anderson. You don't just say things like that and walk away. You don't get to be that wonderful and then just…"

Blaine knows Kurt is still talking and it's rude to not pay attention.

But all he can think about is breathing again.

In the same fashion a man underwater will swim for the surface, Blaine reaches a hand around the back of Kurt's neck and pulls them together.

Their lips touch and Blaine sucks in a deep breath through his nose, inhaling Kurt's scent of vanilla and strawberries and a hint of mint toothpaste.

Then Kurt's arms are around his neck and Blaine responds with his own arms around Kurt's waist.

Kurt's mouth is moving against Blaine's and _finally_ it's a kiss.

_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece. I'm complete._

God, Blaine really is an oblivious idiot.

He doesn't take too much time to dwell on that, though. He has more important things to concentrate on.

Like the fact that now he can taste that mint toothpaste.

Or Kurt's fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Or how he can feel Kurt's heart hammering against his own because their chests are pressed so tightly together.

Or the simple fact that he is kissing and being kissed by Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.

That's the most important thought. Blaine decides to give it the focus it deserves.

After kissing each other breathless (an impressive feat as both participants have a singer's lung capacity), they part but do not separate.

Blaine's grin is ridiculously wide, his hazel eyes sparking with excitement and elation, his curls loose and bouncy making him look young and carefree, the way he feels inside.

Kurt's heart soars at knowing this look is because of him. He plans on putting it there for as long as Blaine will let him.

Kurt himself has a faint blush across his cheeks and his lips are shining and red and swollen. His eyes are bright blue and a toothless smile breaks across his face.

Blaine thinks he's never looked more radiant.

"We should talk." Kurt breathes.

Blaine slips easily into a puppy-dog pout. He liked what they were doing before. In fact, if they did that forever, Blaine would be quite content to never talk again.

Kurt lets out a small giggle as if he can read Blaine's thoughts (which isn't too far out of the question. They've always been close. Wevid has their suspicions).

"Hey, you're the one who was so desperate to talk. I'm finally in the mood to acquiesce your request."

Blaine sighs (cursing his puppy eyes for failing him) but nods.

Kurt smiles again and kisses Blaine's frown. "Now, now. If you behave, there might be a reward in it for you." Another peck.

Blaine grins immediately and presses a tender kiss to Kurt's smug smirk.

"I'll be good." He murmurs against Kurt's lips.

The pale boy hums in response and talking is postponed for another few minutes.

Breathless yet again, Kurt and Blaine clear enough space on Kurt's bed for them to sit.

They are both determined to stay there until they each say all they need to (and if a few kisses sneak their way in, so be it).

And they do.

They talk about the pamphlets, Kurt blushing bright red the whole time and Blaine unable to stop chuckling which would have normally annoyed the pale boy if Blaine's laughter weren't so infectious.

Blaine does end up sharing what he knows as Kurt shares what he's learned the past weekend.

Together, they learn that despite how into kissing Blaine is, he remains incredibly ticklish and that Kurt loves swallowing the laugher that bubbles out of the other boy when his hand brushes Blaine's side.

They talk about the fight after the party at Rachel's. Kurt states adamantly that what he'd said about bisexuals wasn't true. He also tears up, his voice choked, as he apologizes for striking Blaine, only able to hold back his sobs when Blaine pulls him against the shorter boy's chest and pours out deep regret for grabbing at Kurt so roughly. And then, Blaine says can't apologize enough for comparing Kurt to Karofsky. It was just lashing out from a place of hurt. It is a fault they share.

They also share finding immediate comfort in holding hands, threading their fingers together. It anchors them and keeps the defensive walls down.

They talk about Valentine's Day and Jeremiah. Blaine always knew he'd only had a simple crush. He had just wanted to be like every other teenage boy, to be infatuated and call it love, go on a date on a special day for couples just because he could. He just wanted to be like everyone else.

And suddenly it is clear why Dalton is a haven to Blaine and yet so suffocating for Kurt.

The conformity and restrictions bring all students to the same level. Everyone is treated the same.

It's all Blaine has ever wanted. Dalton was his chance to just be a teenage boy, nothing more or less. He just wants to fit in.

Kurt doesn't. All Kurt has ever wanted was a place for him to finally shine. He had been looking for a place that would stop holding him down, a place where people would stop trying to change who he is or telling him to hide it.

They try to talk a little deeper, discuss Blaine's inherent need to be liked or Kurt's desire to over turn apple carts, but end up clinging to each other instead.

Kurt will go back to McKinley. It's irrefutable now. Somehow, someway, he will go back to continue fighting, to keep being himself and shove all the hate right back in the bullies' faces. The way he would have been doing had it not been for Karofsky.

And here Blaine apologizes for 'Courage'. He never meant to bring all that turmoil into Kurt's life.

The pale boy leaps off the bed, grabbing Blaine's wrist and dragging the other boy over to his closet. Kurt opens the door and Blaine sucks in a sharp breath at seeing his own face staring back at him. Below his old school picture is a single word written out in magazine-collage style.

He glances over to Kurt, who, lost in memories, looks the same as that fallen angel Blaine had taken out for coffee all those months ago. The one who had felt miserable and invisible and saw no way out of his hell.

Kurt gives Blaine a tender smile, reaching out and taking the other boy's hand in his.

"You saved me."

There probably should have been more said, an expansion on what saving meant exactly, discussion on true cause and effect versus fate's inevitability.

Instead Blaine yanks Kurt into his arms and kisses him soundly.

Neither complains.

Especially when Blaine finds that spot just under Kurt's ear that makes all tension leave the pale boy's body.

These talks continue covering Blaine's parents (Kurt gently wipes the tears of frustration from the shorter boy's cheeks, replacing the stains with gentle kisses), Kurt's connection to the New Directions (after thinking about the popular Brittana, Blaine thinks he knows why Kurt lashed out at bisexuals in general rather than just Blaine), the difference of Warblers in rehearsal and out (Kurt mentions something David calls Warbler-mode. Blaine will have to question Wevid about that later), and Blaine finally explains the real reason that 'Animal' was cut and how the concept of "Sexy" was dropped altogether.

"Well, it's a relief to know that I can't kill a whole number on my own." Kurt scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Of the course, the gesture is rather pointless, as Blaine can't see it since Kurt is lying with his head on the other boy's shoulder.

He feels Blaine's chest shake with his laugh, his arm around Kurt's waist squeezing as he drops a kiss to the top of his head (and Kurt could certainly get used to this) then nuzzling against the soft chestnut hair.

Blaine feels his heart pick up speed when he realizes that Kurt isn't saying a word about his now messed up hair, choosing instead to return the affection gesture against Blaine's shoulder and chest.

"Just the same, there are many federal crimes I would commit to see you do another Brittney Spears number"

Kurt laughs, but the sound peters out as he processes just what he's been told.

"Another?"

Blaine, utterly blissed-out, is slower on the uptake.

"Yeah. 'Toxic' was hot. You looked..."

Kurt shoots up into a sitting position, staring wide-eyed at Blaine, who finally realizes what he's just said.

"How do you know about that?" Kurt squeaks, all the blood draining from his face.

"I… uh… saw the video?" Blaine swallows, his throat suddenly dry and his side very cold without Kurt pressed against it.

"You found the YouTube channel?" Kurt whispers in horror.

"You know about that?" Blaine wonders if this feeling of shock will ever go away. He keeps waiting for his heart to restart.

"You spend enough Saturday nights alone, you become very well-acquainted with the Internet. But I didn't think anyone was actually _watching_ those things! I figured Rachel had given up on those when they didn't immediately launch her into stardom."

Kurt bites his lip, only able to peak at Blaine from the corner of his eye as he tries to stop the current panic attack he's having.

"Which… which ones did you see?"

"A few."

"Define _few_."

"'Push It'. 'Four Minutes'." Blaine is suddenly blushing bright red and his eyes have darkened significantly. "'Single Ladies'."

Kurt moans unhappily, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

"This is humiliating!" He mumbles into his arms. "I can't believe we did that in a _school assembly_. And a fanny pack? What was I thinking? Ugh! The cheerio uniform is so disgusting. Stupid cheap polyester. I never should have let the girls talk me into doing that video again. _A unitard_? I can't believe they posted a video of my in a _unitard_. People worldwide can see me in a glitter vest. People worldwide can see me the one time I let Brittany style my hair. Oh, _my hair_!"

"It was sexy."

Kurt's head snaps up and he faces Blaine once again (embarrassed that he had actually forgotten that Blaine was there).

"Your hair looked great like that. And honestly, no one is going to remember the glitter vest after seeing those black jeans. The cheerleading uniform may be cheap but it is also flattering. _Very _flattering. Same with the fanny pack. How exactly do you do that thing with your hips? That should come with a warning label by the way. In fact, you owe me a new brain because you crawling on the floor melted mine. And how exactly are you that flexible? The leg thing you did for 'Bad Romance' was just… wow. If you can do that, not to mention dancing around in those shoes, you should definitely be working with David on our choreography. Also, if we show Wes 'Le Jazz Hot', he'll spend months coming up with new harmonies to feature your range and may just fall in love with you." Blaine scowls suddenly. "On second thought, let's keep Wes out of this."

"How many videos did you see, again?"

"All of them I think. But that's beside the point. Do you still have the hat from 'We Got The Funk'? Because you looked…"

Kurt, flattered and blushing beyond belief but quite ready for Blaine to stop, kisses the other boy.

But Blaine can feel that his argument isn't sinking in. He's never been particularly good with articulating his thoughts.

With Kurt's soft lips already pressed against his own, he figures a new tactic is in order.

Framing the pale boy's face in his hands, Blaine draws Kurt in deeper, unable to stop from grinning into the kiss when Kurt follows eagerly.

Using his tongue to open the kiss, Blaine lets one of his hands drift down, gliding over Kurt's side, pulling him closer and closer until there is no space between them.

One of Kurt's arms snakes its way around Blaine's neck, the other gripping his bicep. Blaine's hand on Kurt's face lowers to his neck, running his thumb over Kurt's smooth but strong jaw. His other hand lowers past Kurt's hip to the top of his thigh, resting there then squeezing.

Kurt's entire body reacts, pressing more firmly against Blaine, so much so that the boy is actually pushed onto his back.

Given both boys' experience level (considerably low given their age), one would think discomfort would settle in soon after the sudden progression from light touches to this.

However, as each boy trusted the other to put an immediate stop to things if one or the other was uncomfortable, neither felt any fear or pressure.

Wevid would also like to point out that since this had been building between them for about four months now, anyone who thought they were moving too fast needed their head examined (and to keep their abnormally large nose out of other people's business).

Blaine himself is quite pleased with the turn of events.

He has Kurt Hummel in his lap. Is he supposed to complain?

Kurt shifts his weight, not wanting to crush the shorter boy (wanting a better angle) until he is straddling Blaine, digging his fingers into the loose curls, giving a gentle experimental tug.

When Blaine moans wantonly into his mouth, Kurt considers the experiment a success.

Lungs screaming for air for the umpteenth time tonight, Kurt separates them, resting his forehead against Blaine's, panting heavily.

Blaine however, sees his opportunity to make up for all the chances he'd had but was too dense to take.

Kurt gave a small startled noise as Blaine kissed along his jaw but when Blaine finds that special spot beneath the other boy's ear, Kurt's body goes nearly boneless against his. Blaine can't help but grin victoriously against the pale skin before working his way down the swan-like neck.

Kurt is panting for a different reason now and just can't seem to get his breath back. He shuts his eyes, loosing himself to the feeling of full lips against his skin, tiny nips up and down the column of his neck, and the flick of a tongue against his pulse point.

He can feel Blaine's fingers at the top button of his shirt and whines in gratitude when the other boy makes quick work of opening it (thank gaga he'd only done up three buttons), allowing Blaine easy access to his collarbone.

Kurt gives tiny, breathy noises at each of Blaine's ministrations, getting lightheaded but not caring. And as good as this all feels, he needs those lips back on his.

Blaine lovingly runs his hand down Kurt's toned chest, fingers ghosting over his defined abs, (which had been captivating just to stare at. They were absolutely _intoxicating_ to touch) making note to lavish those with attention later.

Although Blaine's not sure he'll ever want to leave Kurt's neck and collarbone. He hadn't really counted on how amazing Kurt would taste or how it would feel to hear Kurt moan while feeling the sound vibrate in his throat or how connected he felt to the other boy when he felt Kurt's pulse thrumming against his lips. Even just how _warm_ Kurt is.

But suddenly that warmth is gone. And Blaine can't help but be a little frustrated.

If Kurt doesn't want to kiss anymore, Blaine's fine with slowing down but stop pulling away. It's cold when Kurt's gone. Blaine hates being cold.

Now Kurt is staring at him, as if the pale boy had been meaning to do something but had been stopped. He's giving Blaine a confused look that is both disbelieving and an attempt to not laugh.

What could he have done to deserve that look?

Unless…

"Um, Blaine? Did you just…?"

Oh god no…

"Blaine, did you _whimper_ just now?"

Of course.

Blaine let his head fall back against Kurt's pillows, groaning in embarrassment.

"Yes, I did."

Kurt nods, still looking lost.

"Does this… happen often?"

"Increasingly." Blaine sighs. "Concerning you at least."

Blaine waits tensely for Kurt to either storm out or laugh (those seem to be the only reactions people have to him making that noise), not relishing the idea of either option.

Instead there is a tender kiss to his cheek.

"I'm still new to all of this." Kurt whispers into Blaine's ear, sending a shiver down the other boy's spine. "But I'll take that as a compliment."

Kurt gently pulls Blaine into a sitting position, still straddling him, and wraps an arm around Blaine's shoulders, his other hand tangling its fingers into black curls.

And then it's Kurt's lips on Blaine's skin.

And Blaine's jealousy of that lollipop (which he can now freely admit to) was totally justified.

Blaine can't even remember what a baby penguin _is_ because all that exists is Kurt's mouth on his neck.

Anyone else would have suspected Kurt of starting off with shy feathery kisses or something equally soft and timid. To be honest, Blaine had also.

Instead Kurt segued easily into small, coy kitten licks that seem to have the sole purpose of torturing Blaine. When he skates over the junction between neck and shoulder, a violent shiver runs through Blaine's body, a deep moan escaping him. Kurt grins against Blaine's neck (the smug bastard) and focuses all his attention to that spot, tugging at the collar of his undershirt to gain better access. Blaine begins to completely fall apart as Kurt licks and kisses and nips at the now rather tender (therefore more sensitive) piece of skin while gently rolling his hips down on Blaine's lap and the curly-haired boy grabs those hips, clinging to them like a lifeline.

Simultaneously tugging Blaine's curls and rolling his hips, Kurt bites down on that spot, sucking harshly, ensuring a large bruise that will mark Blaine as his.

And this is how Blaine Anderson finally heard himself whimper.

It's a high sound (much higher than Blaine would have thought himself capable of), so puppy-like it's almost inhuman. It is also a sound of shameless need.

And it's not that hard to imagine what he needs exactly. This explains Wes's discomfort and also why he was so frustrated with his roommate. Even Blaine's _hormones_ knew he wanted Kurt before Blaine did.

And from the way Blaine immediately pulls Kurt closer (which isn't really possible but it doesn't stop him from trying) by his hips and nuzzles against the pale boy's neck, not even trying to hide as more whimpers escape him, it's easy to see that pride is not an issue here. Which is probably what so amused David.

When, upon hearing a whimper, Kurt repeats whatever touch had elicited the response, Blaine decides to let each and every one loose without trepidation.

However, fidgety and impatient as always, Blaine is no longer content to just sit there as Kurt lights his nerves on fire.

He resumes his own work on Kurt's neck and collarbone. Reaching up one hand to push the shirt out of his way, Blaine discovers a great oversight on his part.

How had he never noticed Kurt's _shoulders_?

The expanse of milky skin before him is mouthwatering and Blaine immediately latches onto it, not missing the tiny whine from Kurt at the attention.

Kurt cards his fingers through black curls and Blaine wraps one arm around a trim waist while both boys use their free arms to pull Kurt out of his sleeve, Blaine already plotting the undoing of the other sleeve and Kurt is contemplating either lifting the undershirt off of Blaine or simply ripping it away from the shorter boy's body (much as he loves clothes, the second option is rather tempting).

After the sleeve is removed, Blaine tenderly kisses the freed shoulder and running his hand over the now exposed side before reaching for the second sleeve, ready for there to be nothing between him and Kurt.

The pale boy takes them on a small detour by pulling Blaine into another kiss.

Both boys loose themselves into this kiss, which is so different from the others.

There is no other word for this one.

It is positively _filthy_.

"OH MY WIZARD GOD!"

With wet, obscene pops, Kurt and Blaine separate and whip around to face the intruder.

Thad Hardwood stands in the doorway (half-eaten Red Vine on the floor before him) jaw dropped and eyes wide, looking like either a victim of a great shock or someone suffering a major stroke.

"Oh Thaddeus. I told you not to bug Kurtsie when he's in project-mode." Comes a voice from down the hall. A voice that is growing closer. "Last time I tried he threw a…"

David has now appeared in the doorway and caught sight of his roommate and dear friend.

Blaine examines his and Kurt's positions, trying to convince himself that it isn't as bad as it seems.

Except it really is.

Kurt's pale skin (while endlessly appealing to Blaine) betrays him with its sharp contrast to Blaine's red bite marks and the embarrassingly large bruises forming on Kurt's shoulder clearly broadcasting Blaine's liking for them.

Not to mention, Kurt is very nearly shirtless and still straddling Blaine.

The soloist himself has a more modest appearance given his own hickeys are hidden by either Kurt or his darker skin. However, the state of his hair and swollen lips can only make him appear debauched. Also, the positioning of his hands is hardly innocent (one still gripping what little of Kurt's shirt is still on his body and the other set rather low on Kurt's back, it's intended destination rather obvious).

A small part of him wonders why he and Kurt aren't changing position. This question is drowned out by the majority of Blaine that can't see any good reason to not have Kurt in his lap, no matter the circumstances.

For a long while, there is only silence between the four frozen boys.

David is the first to regain the power of speech (typical) as he carefully approaches the seated pair.

Blaine watches his friend come forward, peering at Kurt, eyeing the half-dressed boy. Rationally, he knows this is because prim and proper Kurt Hummel so wrecked is quite the sight. Just the same, Blaine feels that all too familiar growling in his chest. It takes control of Blaine's arm, making it tighten his hold on Kurt, trying to stake claim. He glares rather openly at David because the angry, possessive whatever-the-hell in his chest had finally been happy, practically purring when he'd had Kurt presses against him. And David had to spoil that all because he can never pass up the opportunity to annoy his little hobbit (as he always put it) and the worst part was that he was doing it on purpose. The bastard. After having his fun, David turns his attention to the boy beneath his roommate.

"Klaine?" He asks.

Kurt raises a questioning eyebrow such gibberish. He turns a questioning look to Blaine who has wide eyes but then (after sneaking a look at Kurt) smiles like someone had offered him daily doses of ice cream, music, and rainbows.

"Klaine." He confirms.

Kurt has only an instant to be confused before David is screaming with joy, making the pale boy leap out of his skin. He is then left to wonder why Blaine is merely smiling amusedly at his mental patient of a roommate.

Being startled this way brings Kurt back into the present and he decides that now is the time to stop straddling Blaine. Pulling his sleeve back on (free show's over, boys), he takes up a less salacious position, pressed against Blaine's side, wrapping an arm around the other boys midsection just as Blaine's arm goes around his shoulders.

David ignores the movement, still jumping around the dorm in absolute ecstasy.

"Yes, yes, _yes_! I knew it! I knew true love would conquer all! Fate knocks once _my ass_! Oh, Wesley is going to. Eat. His. Words!"

David now whips around on Klaine (and that's how he plans to refer to them for the rest of eternity), addressing them together (_together_!), ignoring Thad for now.

"Ok, you two are staying here tonight! I'll be with Wes. And since Thad here is in charge of room checks tonight, you guys are covered. And I'll be happy to cover for you if you want to miss a few classes tomorrow morning. Trust me! No one is going to miss your sexual tension."

Without waiting for an answer (but making note of the way Klaine leaned a little closer to each other at the thought of so much uninterrupted time together), David turned to Thad, who seems to have short-circuited.

"Come along, Thaddeus. I know Klaine going at it like rabbits is an awkward thing to walk in on but Wes might have some bleach for your eyes."

Thad merely nods hopefully and follows David's lead out of the room.

Kurt and Blaine exchange looks, alone once more. Neither is sure where to go as they are both blushing at David's brazen assessment of the situation but with bodies still humming with adrenaline. It's a limbo of sorts, and they don't move, not sure which way to tip the scale.

"KLAINE IS CANNON, BITCHES!"

Mood sufficiently killed, Blaine and Kurt just laugh.

"I guess we better get some sleep." Kurt recommends once their mirth has died down.

Blaine nods and Kurt reaches into a drawer pulling out a pair of clothes for Blaine to change into (no one is sleeping in uniform slacks. Not in Kurt Hummel's room) before heading to the bathroom for his moisturizing routine and to change his own clothes.

They decide not to mention the sudden shyness they both feel despite the mutual desire to be shirtless not ten minutes ago.

Blaine listens to Kurt humming to himself in the bathroom for a moment before changing, before they will be sleeping in the same bed (neither wanted to bother clearing off David's bed and they have fallen asleep together before), and he imagines being able to end every day like this, with the knowledge that the first thing he'll see in the morning will be Kurt.

He can't think of any better way to live.

Blaine stores those thoughts away (for now) and changes out of his slacks and undershirt.

Kurt had given him a pair of sweatpants (a little long on him but unbelievably soft) and a red football jersey.

Blaine examines the shirt with interest. Obviously it is McKinley's.

He spies the number three on his back in the closet mirror but can't remember if Kurt has ever mentioned his stepbrother's football number. Maybe it's his father's? He thinks Mr. Hummel played football.

The door opens and Blaine whips around to face Kurt coming out of the bathroom, smoothing his blue pajamas before looking up at the shorter boy, smiling instantly.

His smile turns into a sarcastic grin as his eyes fall on the jersey.

"If I thought the cheerio uniform was cheap, it is nothing compared to football gear." Kurt shudders adorably. "Thankfully, I was only subjected to it for one game."

Kurt grins, like this is a private joke. Blaine's face goes blank as the cogs in his head turn.

"One game? You… you played?" It still sounds weird and Blaine can only hope Kurt will clear this up.

Except he only looks as confused as Blaine feels.

"You said you saw 'Single Ladies'."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, how else would I have gotten onto the team?"

Blaine grabs at the jersey's collar, gesturing to it. "This is yours?"

Kurt nods. "I was McKinley's kicker."

Blaine glances at the mirror again (ignoring the pleasurable shiver he feels because wearing Kurt's clothes feels like a mark of ownership to match the bruise on his neck) and notices that while loose without the pads, it is rather small. It had to have belonged to a tiny player.

"I figured you had seen the footage from the game. Actually, I'm surprised you haven't. It spread like wildfire at McKinley."

Kurt shrugs to himself, trying not to think about the fact that since Blaine's interest is undoubtedly piqued, _he _will probably have to be the one to show it to Blaine.

"Since the videos were what prompted all this, it only seemed appropriate our clothes represent them. It's why I dug out the Mattress Land pajamas. I can't believe they still fit. That commercial was over a year ago."

"You were in a commercial?"

Kurt raises an eyebrow at Blaine. "I thought you said you saw all of the videos?"

Blaine stares at Kurt for a long while, as if trying to see every hidden aspect of the other boy. Kurt blushes and looks away, not sure how to handle such deep scrutiny.

A hand clasps around his wrist and Kurt looks up just as Blaine drags him to the bed and sits them together.

"Ok. We are not leaving here until I know everything there is to know about Kurt Hummel."

"The last time we tried this, it ended with two members of the Warbler council walking in on us giving into our rampant hormones."

"So? I fell off a horse two seconds after I was in the saddle. I still got back on and now I'm a polo champion."

"You're not going to try to mount me, are you?"

Blaine laughs and kisses Kurt's nose. "Not tonight. But I'm definitely looking forward to that ride." He throws in a wink for good measure.

The intense blush is reward enough.

A new thought occurs to Kurt. "Wait! You play polo? Why didn't I know this?"

"I only ride in the summer. Dalton is fancy but horses are a bit over the top."

"Oh yes, and the rest of Dalton is so understated with its grand staircases, marble floors, and mahogany tables."

Blaine laughs. God, how he's missed Kurt's sarcasm.

"You should come to the gym. You can see our subtle fencing team and humble lacrosse field."

"Do you play all of those as well?" Kurt is rolling his eyes in a teasing manner and is therefore utterly floored when Blaine nods.

"What other secrets are you keeping from me, Mr. Anderson?"

"Quid pro quo, Mr. Hummel." Blaine grins cheekily.

Kurt gives him a challenging look before leaning forward and kissing Blaine forcefully, plundering the other boy's mouth with his tongue, sucking on his bottom lip until Blaine is a simpering mess in his hands.

"Well?" He whispers confidently.

"I box too."

Kurt chuckles. "Of course you do." A small peck. "I practice sai swords."

And so the night goes. They trade secrets and memories and meaningless details.

They are only interrupted by two texts to Blaine's phone.

_David is truly unbearable tonight. I blame you and I will not rest until I've made you pay. Also, he snatched that journal and looked inside. He won't tell me what it is but after his reaction, believe me, Kurt and I are going to have a loooong talk about whatever it is. See you guys at rehearsal tomorrow. – Wesley H._

_Oh yeah. Congratulations on getting whacked by that clue-by-four. I'm happy for you, little hobbit. – Wesley H._

Blaine doesn't read the texts until morning as he'd had more important things to attend to that night.

Neither could pinpoint when they fell asleep.

They can tell you what position they were in.

It's the same one Kurt wakes up in early the next morning.

Legs tangled together, Kurt has an arm around Blaine's waist, keeping him close while his other hand rests on Blaine's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of the other boy's pulse. Blaine's arms cradle Kurt against him, nose buried in the chestnut hair.

It's the same position they always fall asleep in but different somehow.

And yet, it's not different at all.

Kurt gives a tiny sigh, knowing there is still a lot of talking ahead of them.

McKinley and Dalton still loom over their heads but it seems pointless to discuss them now. Or are they just fooling themselves into thinking that to preserve the honeymoon stage?

No matter. There are plenty of other heavy subjects they can face. That they will _have_ to face.

Blaine is going to have to tell the story behind his claustrophobia.

Kurt is going to have to explain the scar on his neck.

Together they will have to tackle Blaine's brother who, on the path to success, tossed his sibling aside.

And Blaine is going to wonder why there are no Hummel's aside from Burt in Kurt's life.

There are smaller things. Annoyances or endearments. It's hard to tell from here.

Blaine is never going to stop trying to get Kurt into sports. He's never going to eat healthy. His hair will always be weighed down with gel. He is always going to be his oblivious, impatient, rambling self.

Kurt is never going to stop trying to get Blaine to care more about his skin. Ninety percent of what he says will be sarcasm. He will always keep a cold distance between him and anyone he doesn't trust (everyone aside from Burt and Blaine). And that trust will not be easily earned.

Maybe they can compromise. Maybe they can't.

There are going to be people who can't accept them. Everyday is going to be a fight.

They'll have to decide quickly if they mean enough to each other to swim upstream every single day.

It could be a sign or a coincidence. Regardless, as that thought passes through Kurt's mind, Blaine's arms tighten and he nuzzles against Kurt's hair, smiling in his sleep.

Kurt grins to himself, burrowing himself into Blaine's neck and shoulder, loosing himself to better ideas.

Like spending every night like this.

He can go watch Blaine fence or box. He can listen to Blaine explain the rules and strategies of lacrosse with his emphatic hand gestures and the glint in his eyes like a five-year-old with candy.

If (he knows it's a _when_ but just wants to pretend right now) he goes back to McKinley, maybe he'll rejoin the cheerios and Blaine can come to pep rallies.

Spending anniversaries at the Lima Bean. Splitting cookies and stealing Blaine's biscotti even though Kurt said he only wanted coffee.

Kurt chuckles silently, knowing he's getting ahead of himself.

He hasn't even asked Blaine to be his boyfriend yet.

Shutting his eyes, Kurt presses himself against Blaine, content to let the morning continue without him for a while.

Right now, Kurt is nestled safely in the strong arms of a kind, smart, caring, handsome boy who's wearing Kurt's clothes while they sleep huddled under blankets. Everything else can wait.

Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine's neck, feeling the other boy make a soft, happy, sleepy noise. And he knows he's done for.

Kurt had been right. He'd offered his heart to Blaine and he is never going to get it back.

And that's perfectly all right.

After all, Kurt doesn't plan on giving back Blaine's heart any time soon.

* * *

><p><em>And there you have it.<em>

_12 chapters_

_138 pages_

_2,220 paragraphs_

_53,611 words_

_Over 340 reviews_

_1 Klainebow_

_Man. What a ride!_


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